


Onion Breath

by DracoimreH



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-workers, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Lyanna likes sandwiches, On Set, Pod is a cinnamon roll, Sandor is everything, Sansa hates onions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoimreH/pseuds/DracoimreH
Summary: “Fuck, Little Bird.” The Hound reached up, cupping her jaw, his eyes dropping down to her lips as he took a step closer to her in the darkened stairwell, pushing her back against the wall.“Yes?” Her breath stuttered as she tilted her head into his hand, her eyes closing as the rough skin of his palm brushed against her cheek. “What is it?” She looked up at him, her eyes watching his closely, almost begging him to move closer.The Hound growled. “Fuck it.” He leaned towards her, his free hand gripping her waist, pulling her tightly to him. “Fuck the king.”“CUT!”The production assistant’s voice rang out into the room.“Gods, Clegane.” Sansa shoved him away, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Did you eat onions again?”Sandor smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Just for you, Stark. I know how much you fucking love them.”- - -Sansa and Sandor are actors on Westeros' highest-grossing show 'Schemes for Sovereignty'. One Problem - they hate each other.*UPDATES WEEKLY*
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 479
Kudos: 414





	1. Professional Fucking Courtesy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omw_to_Winterfell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omw_to_Winterfell/gifts).



> Hiiiii!! Welcome to my newest child - Onion Breath!! 
> 
> Now if you've read a story of mine before, you know I don't post until a story is 100% complete but SURPRISE. This one is NOT complete. (I know, the horror.) I DO know how it all goes down but I have no posting schedule - I actually have a new amazing, dream job which has been keeping me from working on this. I've been sitting on these chapters for MONTHS and I can't take it anymore. (Plus, tomorrow is my birthday. What more could I want than feedback from my homies over here on Ao3?)
> 
> I need to mention my neverending gratitude to omw_to_winterfell because without her, this story would've died a painful death before it even began.
> 
> So enjoy! More notes at the end. 
> 
> I MISSED YOU GUYS.

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/eb/e8/4e/ebe84e4e14889fe0ccd93b80c3c52b27.jpg)

_“ _Fuck_ , _Little Bird.” The Hound reached up, cupping her jaw, his eyes dropping down to her lips as he took a step closer to her in the darkened stairwell, pushing her back against the wall.

“Yes?” Her breath stuttered as she tilted her head into his hand, her eyes closing as the rough skin of his palm brushed against her cheek. “What is it?” She looked up at him, her eyes watching his closely, almost begging him to move closer. 

The Hound growled. _“_ _Fuck it._ _”_ He leaned towards her, his free hand gripping her waist, pulling her tightly to him. “Fuck the king.” 

_“CUT!”_

The production assistant’s voice rang out into the room. 

_“ Gods,_ Clegane.” Sansa shoved him away, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Did you eat onions _again ?”_

Sandor smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Just for you, Stark. I know how much you fucking love them.”

Sansa scoffed, rolling her eyes as she walked away, her heavy dress swishing around her legs with every step. 

The production assistant took a step forward, calling after her. “Sansa! Don’t go too far, we’re just resetting the camera to get the shots of the maester interrupting!” 

“I’m not filming _anything_ until he cleans his _revolting_ mouth!” Sansa huffed past another assistant, letting out a muffled _excuse me_ , her chin held high as she exited the set. 

The production assistant turned to Sandor, narrowing her eyes at him. “Really? You just had to antagonize her today? You already know the romance scenes stress her out, Clegane!” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to the food table, picking up a small paper plate and stacking it high with snacks. “Everything fucking pisses her off, Mormont. I’m supposed to just not eat on fried onion ring day? For _her?”_ He rolled his eyes, walking over to the canvas set chair built specifically to hold his weight, flopping down in it with a groan as he bit into an onion ring. 

Lyanna sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead as she looked down at the clipboard in her hands. 

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/62/66/91/6266913c9c083f70d0aa5549488ad0b9.jpg)

Shae pulled at her shirt, trying to adjust it to show ample cleavage while still being tasteful for the cameras, her thoughts on the Hound. 

_Wouldn’t mind climbing that tree._

She smirked to herself, clearing her throat and dropping her hands when Sandor entered the room production had cleared out on set for her press interview. She beamed, giving him her best megawatt smile, known for melting even the iciest of subjects.

“The Hound! One and only, thank you so much for joining me!” 

Sandor frowned at her, pulling the canvas chair she had purposefully set close to hers back a few feet before he sat down, slumping down in it with his arms crossed against his chest, not saying anything. 

_Damnit_.

She straightened her shoulders, smiling demurely at him. 

_No matter. I can still crack him._

She giggled, brushing her hair behind her ear, looking up at him through her lashes. “You know, I’m actually happy to have a moment alone with you..” She leaned forward, brushing her fingertips just _barely_ against his knee. He narrowed his eyes at her hand but didn’t move away - she took this as a positive sign, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I was hoping after _this_ exclusive, I could maybe interest you in another?” She gave him a flirty wink to seal the deal. 

“Oh my, I _do_ hope I’m not interrupting.” Sansa raised an eyebrow, her gaze locked on Shae’s fingers on Sandor’s knee. “I thought this was a meeting for three _professionals_ to discuss a tv show, not nickel-shot night at the local dive bar.” 

Sandor sniffed, rubbing under his nose as he shifted his legs, bringing his foot up on the chair rung, inadvertently causing Shae’s hand to fall from his knee. Shae laughed, sitting up straight in her chair, dismissing Sansa with a wave. “Oh no, hardly interrupting.” She smirked, flicking her gaze over to Sandor as she adjusted the note cards in her lap. “Right, Hound?” 

Sandor cleared his throat, wincing when the light technician adjusted the key light to shine directly at him, illuminating the ragged scars down the side of his face. “I’m not the fucking Hound.” 

Shae _tsk’d_ _,_ pointing her pen at him. “No, of course you aren’t. I’m so sorry. _Sandor.”_

She grinned at him as Sansa scoffed, sitting down in the seat next to Sandor, crossing her legs primly, adjusting her thick dress, both her and Sandor still in costume. 

Shae turned to the camera operator, giving her a thumbs up. “We good to go, Ros?” 

Ros nodded, returning her thumbs up, her eyes locked on the viewfinder of the camera mounted on the tripod.

Shae turned back to Sandor and Sansa, clearing her throat before smiling broadly. “Well, first, I _must_ thank you both for taking a break from shooting to give us over at _Westeros Weekly_ a little sneak peek into this upcoming season.” She gestured to the costumes. “You both look great.” 

Sansa smiled tightly, nodding her head. “Thank you, it’s great to be here.”

Sandor let out a heavy sigh, raising an eyebrow and nodding once at Shae.

She smiled, turning to Sansa. “Now, Sansa, last season left Little Bird at such a crucial point - very excitingly, the newly appointed Queen of the North! But with the tragic death of her last confidant Jory, how do you think Little Bird will navigate this new role without any allies to speak of?”

“Well, actually, I’m not sure she’s totally alone.” She stuck a thumb out towards Sandor, giving him a fake smile. “A big lump seems to be in her shadow _pretty often_ , right? Just won’t.. leave her alone.” 

Sandor frowned. his arms dropping from in front of his chest. “Hey, he’s not a _lump.”_ He sat up in the chair, moving his feet flat on the ground. “He fucking works out.” 

Shae giggled, leaning forward to push on Sandor’s shoulder, the movement hardly natural since she had to reach to cover the wide gap between them. “Oh, the women in Westeros can certainly attest to that!” She leaned back in her chair, eyeing his arms before looking back at Sansa. “Now, since you mention it, a _little bird_ ..” She winked theatrically at Sansa. “.. told me that fans will finally, _finally_ get some long-awaited romance between The Hound and Little Bird this season. As you know, the writers have been hinting at this for.. “ She looked down at her notes, flipping to the next card. ”..two seasons now. What are your thoughts? Can you tell us anything?”

Sansa laughed awkwardly, interlacing her fingers in her lap. “Umm, yeah, well, I mean, I know it’s something the fans have wanted for _so long._ And of course I’m right along with them - I personally have been advocating for a Little Bird/Hound storyline for years!” Sandor coughed to cover his scoff as Sansa laughed forcefully. “I mean, trust me, _no one_ is more on board with that plan than um.. than me but…” She shrugged her shoulders. “What are you gonna do? The writers are in control here so...” She crossed her fingers in a ‘good luck’ gesture, looking over at Sandor. “We hope and wait, right? Clegane?” 

She widened her eyes, her smile tight as she tossed the question to him. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked at Shae. “Look, I know the fucking fans want to see it but honestly.. It doesn’t make any sense.” 

Shae gasped dramatically, her hand on her chest. “No! Hound, say it isn’t so! What do you mean?!”

Sandor blew the air out of his cheeks, shrugging a shoulder. “She’s fucking.. fancy. He’s just a shit farmer’s son from the West, what the fuck would they even have in common? Why the fuck would they even be interested in each other?”

Shae laughed incredulously, adjusting the note cards in her hands. “Welllll, I don’t think fans are really wanting to see them have like, discussions about their hobbies while doing the dishes at night, right?” She grinned widely at him, leaning forward to smack her note cards against his knee, making him frown. “Fans want to see the steamy romance that _Schemes for Sovereignty_ is known for! A show that was first catapulted into the top charts years ago because of the _risks_ the writers take with the plots lines! I personally nearly fainted when it was revealed at the end of season three that..” She glanced down at her note cards. “..the King was an _evil twin_ who had the _real_ king locked in a tower!” 

Sansa nodded, her eyes wide. “Yes.. I think we were all surprised by that one.” She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. “The writers constantly amaze me with their.. skill.” 

Sandor rolled his eyes, muttering _fucking hell_ under his breath as he slumped back in the chair, crossing his arms against his chest. 

Sansa leaned forward, her hair blocking her face from the camera as she looked at him, her eyes hard as she mouthed _Stop it._

She turned back to Shae, tucking her hair behind her ear, her smile tight, forced. “But yes, um, I _think_ what Clegane was saying was just that The Hound certainly has his work cut out for him.” She laughed, her eyebrows raised. “I mean, Little Bird is a lady, right? She’s been raised to save herself, you know, for her husband so..” She shrugged her shoulders. “Will she go against all that training and, and.. _tradition_ to lay with the Hound for a fun night?” She intertwined her fingers in her lap again, her knuckles white. “It’s um.. It’s definitely something we’ll have to watch out for. See what the writers develop.” 

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/3c/ef/6a/3cef6a5d0ebab5295dad2965eec3bd0a.jpg)

Sandor gave her an incredulous look as they left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. “What the _fuck_ was that?” 

Sansa scoffed, pausing in the middle of the hallway to look up at him. “What was _what?_ Just a normal press junket. And you’re welcome for digging you out of that hole.” She looked down at her dress, brushing her fingertips along the column of buttons running down the front of her stomach. 

“I didn’t-” Sandor nodded at a lighting assistant carrying a thick coiled up cable, moving to the side so she could move past the actors in the narrow hallway before he looked back at Sansa. “I didn’t need your fucking help - I’m not spewing horse shit for the fucking cameras.” 

Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes, walking down the hallway again. “Look, I know you’re new to these interviews since your character isn’t a motionless statue in the background anymore but that’s just how these things go. Cersei said all you have to do is smile, look pretty, and say just enough to sound good but not give anything away.” 

Sandor's eyes widened, following behind her. _“Cersei?_ The fucking nut job who was fired last season for giving a producer an STD? _That’s_ your mentor?”

Sansa shook her head, turning to face him as she walked. “She wasn’t a nut job, she was.. “ She rolled her eyes, brushing her hair out of her face, her cheeks blushing. “Ok well, personal life aside, she taught me how these things go - it doesn’t matter whether it’s in a fake medieval world or your livelihood, politics are politics. She said to keep your cards close to your chest to protect yourself and your image.” She raised a manicured eyebrow at him. “And you’re in this world now, too - you might want to start taking notes.” 

Sandor grimaced, his nose wrinkling as he watched her walk away, her steps prim and proper as she rounded the corner, disappearing from his view. 

_\- - -_

Jaqen dusted the makeup brush over her cheekbones, humming to himself as he stood back, his eyes examining her face closely. 

Sansa kept her head still, her chin raised, lips slightly parted as she hesitantly flicked her eyes over to him. “Am.. I done?”

Jaqen frowned, sighing as he swiped the brush across a palette in his hand. “I will tell the girl when she is ready. Stop moving.” 

Sansa pursed her lips, sighing faintly as a scoff of amusement came from the man beside her. She rolled her eyes, trying to look in his direction without moving her head. 

“You know, laughing at others is rude.” 

“What?” 

She could see Sandor lean forward, his giant body now in her peripheral vision, his voice laced with confusion. She cleared her throat, brushing her long skirt over her legs, adjusting the fabric. “You shouldn’t laugh at people. It’s rude.” 

He stood up from his chair, giving Osha a nod as the make-up artist smirked, muttering _don’t be a jackass_ before walking over to the sink to clean her brushes. He ripped the thin paper bib from around his neck, balling it up in his hand as he leaned against the counter, facing her, holding up his phone so she could see the screen. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a1/6f/7a/a16f7a99a82f57081e77035c813c89e4.jpg)

“Oh.” She felt her face heat as she looked away from the phone, biting the inside of her cheeks, her gaze moving down to the floor in front of her makeup chair.

Jaqen scoffed, gesturing to her reddened cheeks. “Now you are making my work look tasteless. Even a savant of my caliber cannot tell what coloring is mine and what is yours.” 

Sansa felt her face heat more as she sighed, trying to swallow down the embarrassment, a snort of laughter coming from the man standing against the counter. She looked up at him, his arms crossing against his chest as he smirked down at her. _“Now_ I’m fucking laughing at you.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes, looking away as he crossed one ankle in front of the other, his voice full of mirth. “Let me guess, Cersei’s first lesson was ‘Narcissism 101 - think every fucking thing is about you.’”

Sansa scoffed. “I do _not_ think everything is about m- oh, sorry.” She winced apologetically when Jaqen gripped her chin in his hand, holding her still, his eyes narrowed into a stern glare. 

The door to the make-up trailer whipped open, startling Sansa, making her flinch. 

Jaqen huffed, exasperated as he turned to face Lyanna. “There are geniuses at work here! We cannot operate with _interruptions!”_ Jaqen gestured to himself and Osha, the corners of his mouth pulled down in a disgruntled frown.

Lyanna pulled her headphones down around her neck, her eyes on the clipboard in her hand. “It’s too early for your bullshit, Jaq, a lot to do today. You two-” She waved the clipboard in Sansa and Sandor’s general direction. “Script is getting some last-minute rewrites so I don’t have it for you yet.” 

They both groaned, Sandor tilting his head back, his face to the ceiling. “So we woke up at the shit crack of dawn for nothing?” 

Lyanna shook her head. “No, I’ve shifted some things around - we’ll go ahead and shoot the promo shots instead. Some minor costume changes and now your shit crack of dawn wake up isn’t wasted. You’re welcome.” She grinned at him, raising a self-satisfied eyebrow.

Jaqen sputtered, gesturing to Sansa and Sandor’s faces, fake blood splattered across their skin. “But.. they are outfitted for their scene during the big battle!”

Lyanna hummed, looking down at the schedule. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna need you to change that - just do a standard beauty look for now, ok? Maybe a little extra for the big guy.” She winked, smacking Sandor’s arm with her clipboard, making him roll his eyes with an amused scoff as she left the trailer, Jaqen muttering under his breath as he pulled a long chain of make-up wipes from his tool belt.

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/17/d0/cb/17d0cb3530402f5be5513c11217e0b45.jpg)

“So, Sansa, you’re just gonna be sitting here, Sandor here in front between her legs. Establishing shot will be down at the feet, then we’ll just pan up, maybe get a good Sandor-hand-squeezing-Sansa’s-ass shot and then cut up to reveal your faces.” Mormont hopped down from the desk, walking over to the camera, her eyes on the clipboard. “I think.. yeah, there’s gonna be music added in post so no dialog for these. Just, you know, hot and heavy, writhing with passion, blah, blah. Is Theon here? I ordered a sandwich twenty minutes ago.” She looked around at everyone, the camera and light crew all shrugging. 

Sandor saw Sansa swallow thickly, her eyes wary as she looked at the desk. She turned to Mormont, her brows furrowed. “Are we sure this isn’t a good opportunity for the stand-ins?” 

Mormont raised an eyebrow, turning to Sansa. “Did you miss the part where we need to show your face?” 

Sansa frowned, shaking her head. “No, I just.. what if we kept up the mystery, you know? _Didn’t_ show the faces? Fans wouldn’t know who’s on the desk - we can really keep them guessing, they’d theorize and drive themselves all crazy.” She smiled widely at Mormont, her face overly-bright, voice hopeful.

_For fuck’s sake._

Sandor scoffed beside her, crossing his arms over his chest but she ignored him. 

Mormont frowned, looking down at her clipboard, pursing her lips. “No. Fans will already know it’s you two - this is gonna air right before the big battle. We need viewers to stress about the fact that one of you might die.” She raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “Or if you’ll have enough time to fuck before one of you dies.” 

Sansa sighed, muttering _damnit_ as she walked over to the desk, Sandor following behind her, his voice low. “So fucking transparent, thanks for showing some professional fucking courtesy.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder as she bunched up her heavy wool dress in her hands. “Speaking of _professional courtesy,_ did you brush your disgusting teeth today?” 

Sandor smiled sarcastically, leaning forward to pull the chair out of their way. “I guess you’ll find out soon, _Princess.”_

Sansa wrinkled her nose, sitting on top of the desk, her knuckles white as she held onto the fabric, pushing it halfway up her thigh. “If your hands go higher than this, I will stab you with a dirty letter opener.” 

Sandor blinked at her, his face confused. “Do people even use letter openers anymore?” Sansa glared at him, her eyes hard as he continued. “How the fuck am I’m supposed to grab your fucking ass then?” 

Sansa huffed an incredulous laugh, her ankles crossing, blocking him from walking closer to her as she pointed at him. _“Gods,_ I bet you just love this - getting paid _and encouraged_ to grope me.” 

Sandor put his palms flat on the desk, leaning close enough that her finger touched his chest, his voice hard as she leaned back against the wall. “Believe it or not, no, my fucking dick doesn’t get hard touching women against their will. But I’m getting paid to do a job - and so are you. So either be fucking professional or, if my touch is that fucking disgusting to you, quit.”

Sansa scoffed, raising an eyebrow as she dropped her hand into her lap. “You’re lecturing _me_ about being _professional?_ I graduated from _Arryn School of Arts,_ the top acting school in the _entirety_ of Westeros!”

_Prissy fucking princess._

Sandor rolled his eyes, leaning away from her as she continued, sitting up straight, her voice a low hiss between her teeth. “I have been trained to _exacting standards_ on how to be fucking professional!” 

Mormont called out to them, a sandwich in her hand. “Hey, lighting says we’re ready, you guys good?” 

“Yes! We’re fucking ready!” Sansa leaned forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards her, Sandor barely catching himself with his hands on the desk as Sansa wrapped her ankle around his thigh, her chin raised defiantly as he stared at her, eyes wide. 

“Ok, Gendry is just gonna shoot until we get it so keep going until I say. ” Lyanna clapped her hand on Gendry’s back, her eyes on her sandwich as he stepped towards them, the camera mounted on his shoulder pointed at Sandor’s feet. 

Sandor raised an eyebrow at Sansa, his eyes watching hers as he brushed his fingertips against the top of her knee. She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t say anything so he moved his hand up, his palm dragging against her skin slowly. When his fingers hit the fabric of her dress he felt her leg muscles tense, the hand holding onto his shirt tightening fractionally, her eyes nervous as she watched him. He raised an eyebrow, moving his hand down the outside of her thigh instead of dipping under her dress, Sansa relaxing, letting out a slow breath as his fingers curved under her leg. 

He smirked, tightening his grip and yanking her towards him, Sansa letting out a small yelp of surprise as she moved across the top of the desk, her hands flying to his shoulders to steady herself. She glared at him, her jaw tight as he leaned down, his voice barely more than a whisper against her ear. 

“Your move.” 

Sansa scoffed, turning towards him, their faces so close he was sure she could smell the mint from his toothpaste as she looked up into his eyes. He smirked when she narrowed her eyes, her shoulders straightening like the Queen she was portraying, Little Bird in her place now. 

He sighed, his fun of fucking with her over as he closed his eyes briefly, changing his mindset. 

_I could die in this fucking battle, this is my fucking woman, I need to fuck her._

The Hound opened his eyes, catching Little Bird’s heated gaze moving down his face as she leaned forward, pressing her lips against his jawline. He angled his chin up so she could have more room, hissing when he felt her teeth graze against his skin, his hand tightening on her leg, pulling her body roughly against his. 

She sighed, her breath a warm puff of air against his skin, her hands moving to his chest, gripping his shirt, pulling him to her. He growled _Little Bird_ as he leaned over her, his hand running up her back to fist her long hair, the locks tangled up in his fingers as he pulled, her head tilting back like he wanted it to. 

He ran his teeth across her neck, holding her head still, tightening his hand in her hair as he growled against her skin, gripping her leg, hitching it up higher on his waist. 

He heard her whimper, her hand moving to his forearm, squeezing it, the nails digging into his skin, encouraging him. 

_Fuck yeah._

_Wait, a whimper?_

Sandor looked up at her, seeing a brief flash of fear in her eyes before she looked off to the side, trying to turn her face away from Camera except The Hound’s hand was pinning her in place.

_Oh, fuck._

He let go of her as if she’d burnt him, backing up so quickly he nearly tripped over the chair he had moved out of the way earlier.

“Wait guys, what happened?” Mormont turned from the monitor displaying the shot, a piece of lettuce falling from her mouth as she frowned. 

“Uhh..” Sandor’s eyes widened, his mind blank as he tried to think of an excuse. 

“I think the desk is too short.” Sansa swallowed, flicking her eyes over to him briefly before looking back at Mormont. “I mean, my feet are still touching the ground. It just didn’t feel..right.”

Mormont hummed, looking at another monitor, a recording of the footage they already had playing on the screen. “Yeah, you’re right - it’s giving you this weird hunchy back, Clegane. I liked the chemistry though, definitely have that whole hate-sex vibe going, especially there at the end.” 

Sandor frowned, not looking at Sansa as Mormont handed her sandwich to another assistant, her eyes scanning the room. “Well, we aren’t married to the desk idea. What if.. what if we move the desk, have you guys up against the wall instead?”

Sandor looked over at Sansa, her face hidden from him behind her hair as she stood from the desk, brushing her hands down her dress. 

Mormont turned to the crew, her voice loud to carry through the entire room. “Can we get some guys in here to move this desk away from the wall?” 

Sandor stepped towards the desk, grabbing it by the corner and dragging it away from the wall easily with one hand, his eyes trying to get a read on Sansa’s face. 

Mormont groaned, frustrated. “Clegane, how many times do I have to tell you? You’re the _talent,_ you can’t do that. We have people to move the heavy things.” 

Sandor looked over at her, his eyebrow raised in disbelief. “I can’t move the fucking desk but I’m supposed to hold her up against the wall?” 

Mormont shrugged, grabbing her sandwich back from the assistant, her eyes on the monitor showing Gendry’s camera. “The desk weighs twice as much as she does. Just..lift her up. Action or whatever.” She waved a hand in their direction, taking a bite from her sandwich as Gendry got himself into position. 

Sandor sighed, looking over at Sansa, her expression blank as she situated herself in front of the wall, her hands shakily gathering her dress up above her knees. 

He clenched his jaw, stepping in front of her, his eyes watching her closely. “You good?”

“Yep.” She nodded once, her gaze locked on his chest as she closed her eyes, her shoulders straightening, a confident Little Bird looking back at him when she opened her eyes again. 

Sandor swallowed, nodding to her as he bent down, wrapping his hands around the back of her legs, her skirt bunching up around her thighs as he lifted her up against the wall. He frowned before he closed his eyes, changing his mindset.

_I could die in this fucking battle, this is my woman, I need to fuck her._

_But not fucking hurt her, maybe just… follow her lead. See what she wants to do._

Sandor opened his eyes, a deep frown on his face as he shifted her weight in his hands, trying to keep his palms on the backs of her thighs and away from her ass as she held onto his shoulders. 

She raised an eyebrow at him, confused. 

“No, I got it.” He took in a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes to change his mindset. 

_I’m the fucking Hound. I might die in this fucking battle, I want to fuck my fucking woman. Fuck what she wants._

Sandor opened his eyes, wincing as his hands slipped down her legs, the fabric of her dress making it hard for him to keep his grip. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Sansa’s voice was a hushed whisper, her hands tightening on his shoulders as he shifted her weight around again. “Just… grab my ass!”

“You said I couldn’t touch your ass!” He hissed back at her, trying to focus on keeping his fingers from digging into her, her weight feeling awkward in his hands.

“Just.. you’re going to _drop_ me! Just grab my ass!” Her eyes widened, her hands fisting his shirt as she held on, her body tipping to the side slightly as he fought to keep her upright. 

_Fuck it._

He slid his hands up under her ass, her weight immediately feeling natural as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles crossing against his lower back. His fingers flexed against her, squeezing her ass as he pressed his hips against her, his body leaning into hers. 

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him. “Really taking some liberties there, Clegane.” 

“Fuck, I..” He made to back away but she tightened her legs around him, holding him in place. 

_“Don’t,_ I don’t want to end up on the floor.” She straightened her shoulders, Little Bird staring at him before she leaned forward, her teeth grazing against the skin on his neck, making him hiss. 

He squeezed her ass again as he closed his eyes, changing his mindset. 

_I’m the Hound. Fucking my woman. Before the battle._

Sandor opened his eyes, groaning with frustration as he blinked at the wall, her lips on his skin giving him goosebumps, distracting him. 

Mormont cleared her throat from her spot by the monitor. “Uh, Clegane? Are you good? We’re missing that heat from before.”

Sandor nodded, closing his eyes, leaning down and burying his face in her neck so she’d stop kissing him. 

_Gods, she smells good._

Little Bird hummed, her hips pressing forward into his as she moved her hand to the back of his neck, the tips of her fingers threading through his hair. She pulled him towards her, arching into him as she sucked on the skin where his neck met his shoulder, making him groan.

_Oh, fuck._

He tried to back his hips away from hers, not wanting her to feel him getting _hard_ but she just tightened her legs around his waist, holding him in place. 

Sansa turned her face away from the camera, muttering into his skin. “What are you _doing?”_

He spoke into her hair, frustrated. “I’m.. _shit.”_

_Fuck it._

He pressed her body against the wall with a groan, bucking his hips against hers once, letting her feel the situation. 

“Oh.” Sansa’s cheeks pinked slightly, not a completely unattractive look for her as she bit her bottom lip. She raised an eyebrow, bucking back against him, making his eyes widen in surprise. She shrugged. “It’s.. a compliment. I would be kind of offended if you weren’t.. _you know.”_

He gaped at her, a strangled sound coming from his throat that might’ve been a laugh if he had any air left in his lungs. 

Sansa scoffed, squeezing his waist between her legs, her cheeks darkening. _“What_? Are you a prude now?”

He growled, his hand moving up to grip her waist, dipping his mouth down to her neck to graze his teeth against her throat. He felt her laugh, the sound moving through her body as he ran his tongue along the column of her throat _,_ making her hum as she pushed her hips against his again. 

He ground his hips against hers, his fully hard length between them, pressing against her center as she closed her eyes, her head _thunking_ back against the wall, a moan escaping her lips. 

He smirked, fire in his blood as he squeezed her ass, lifting her up higher- 

“Ok guys, I think we got it.” 

_What?_

He blinked, his heart pumping wildly as he looked over at Mormont. She was reviewing the footage, pointing out something on the screen to an assistant next to her before she looked over at them, nodding. “Yep, we got it! You guys are good for a break.” 

_Oh._

He swallowed thickly, his eyes on Sansa’s fur collar as he set her back down on the ground, clearing his throat as he pulled at his shirt, fixing the mess that Sansa had made of his costume. 

“Well, that wasn’t _completely_ terrible.” Her eyes were bright when he looked up at her, her cheeks still rosy as she grinned at him. She flicked her gaze down at his crotch before looking back up at him, her eyebrow raised. “I guess you’re not the worst coworker to have.” 

Sandor scoffed, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his pants, his dick not getting the memo that the scene was over. “Yeah, well..” His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.

She laughed. _“Wow,_ quite a linguist, aren’t you?”

He huffed out a breath, only slightly frustrated. “It’s not like I can really fucking focus on amazing you with my wit with a raging fucking hard on right now.” 

Sansa hummed, her frown sarcastic as she clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t think you could amaze me with it even with all the blood back in your head.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her back as she walked away, her chin raised primly in the air as she brushed her hands down the skirt of her dress, leaving him alone on set. 

He grit his teeth together, looking up at the ceiling, thinking of Cersei naked to get his dick to go down. 

_Fucking prissy princess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sure you wonderful readers have already figured it out but it will be important to pay attention to the pronouns when they're on set, whether it's Sandor/Hound or Little Bird/Sansa. 
> 
> I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH and I'm so happy you're here with me!! Thank you for reading and please leave a comment to let me know if you're feelin it or not!
> 
> 💛💛💛


	2. I get it, I'm a giant bitch, awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome back to Onion Breath! I was so excited posting Chapter One that I forgot my usual disclaimer so I'll squeeze it in here real quick - I don't do long, drawn-out angst! No 'miscommunication' tropes to be found here! (Oh also, no non-con. Ever!) 
> 
> Ok. Hopefully you're still here. Enjoy Chapter Two!

Sansa hummed as her eyes scanned the script for today’s scenes, her back up against the arm of the couch, her legs stretched out across it. She yawned widely, the sun barely high enough to shine through the windows of the trailer production provided for her while on location.

She heard a key in the door and she sat up, rolling her eyes as she set her script down before standing up from the couch.

Arya came into the trailer, shutting the door behind her, a large tray full of breakfast foods balanced on her hip as she slid her keys into her pocket, a wide grin on her face. “Breakfast has arrived!”

Sansa scoffed, her hands on her hips as she glared at her sister. “Where have you _been?”_

Arya huffed a laugh, stepping over to the table, sliding the tray across it. “One octave higher and that would be a _perfect_ Mrs. Weasley impression. You’re actually getting pretty good at this acting thing, Sans.” 

Sansa’s hands dropped from her hips, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Arya! You’ve been gone for _days!”_

Arya shrugged, taking a pastry from the tray and biting into it, speaking around the food. “I was off exploring, dicking around with Pod.” 

Sansa frowned. “You were off having sex with Pod? Who’s Pod?”

Arya shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “Gross, no. Pod is like..a cousin who’s objectively attractive and sure, you kind of have, like, weird feelings for him and _maybe_ you’ll make out once or twice but ultimately nothing will happen.” She shrugged, shoving the rest of the pastry into her mouth, grabbing a plate of hash browns and walking over to the couch.

Sansa grimaced, her nose wrinkled. “That is _very_ specific.”

Arya hummed, shrugging a shoulder as she flopped down onto the couch, Sansa moving quickly, barely snatching a pillow out of the way in time as Arya swung her feet up, her boots leaving traces of snow on the cushions. 

Sansa gaped at the mess, gesturing to it with the pillow in her hands. “You’re a _terrible_ assistant!” 

Arya laughed, nodding in agreeance as she balanced the plate of hash browns on her stomach, scooping some up with her fingers. “And yet, you picked me to come here.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes, throwing the pillow over to the other end of the couch before pulling out a chair at the small dining room table, adjusting her long robe around her legs as she sat down. “Trust me, I regret that decision _daily.”_ She gestured to the huge amount of food. “Where did you even find this stuff? Did they get a food truck on site?”

Arya let out a bark of a laugh, scooping up more hash browns. “Our days of cold cereal and clumpy oatmeal are behind us, Sans!” She looked up at her sister, her eyes bright. “They _finally_ opened the kitchens in the castle. We’ll be eating like royalty now!” 

_Well. At least she cared enough to bring me some food._

Sansa sighed, reaching out for a napkin to drape across her lap gracefully.

“He’s your beefhead love interest’s new assistant, by the way.” Sansa raised an eyebrow in her direction and Arya rolled her eyes. “Pod. The studio hired him for Clegane since he didn’t have a sibling to panic-write down on the security form, I guess.” 

Sansa hummed. “I should’ve written Rick’s name down. He would never _abandon_ me for days at a time.” She eyed the plate of blueberry pancakes in the center of the tray, her stomach growling as she grabbed a fork, sliding the tray closer to her. “Gods, these look delicious.”

“Uhh, actually, those are mine.” Arya stood up quickly from the couch, setting her empty hash brown plate down on the table beside the tray. Sansa sighed, annoyed as she pointed her fork to a plate of scrambled eggs with vegetables, raising an eyebrow at her sister.

Arya sucked in air through her teeth apologetically. “Nope, mine too.” 

Sansa exhaled sharply, pointing to a bowl of mixed fruit. 

“No.”

A plate of mini muffins. 

“Not those either.” 

Sansa scoffed, her shoulders sagging. “Arya!” 

“What?” Arya shrugged, unbothered. “Those are my after-pancake snack.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes, looking down at the tray. “Ok, well, did you happen to get anything for me to eat?”

“Of course I did! What kind of assistant would I be if I forgot you?” Arya reached forward to push aside a plate with more pastries stacked on top, digging behind it. “Here.” 

She handed Sansa a sad glass cup full of mushy egg whites, Sansa raising an eyebrow at it before looking at Arya skeptically. “What? I didn’t have any more room on the tray for another plate.” She reached around Sansa, grabbing the plate of pancakes and a fork, walking back over to the couch.

 _“Wow._ I am _truly_ touched that you saw this sad, miserable breakfast and thought of m-“ Sansa frowned at the tray, a messy stack of papers covered in food stains where the pancake plate was previously. “What’s this? These papers?” 

Arya raised an eyebrow, cutting into the pancakes with the side of her fork. “Oh yeah, some production flunkie handed that to me when I was loading up at the food bar. New script or something.” She shrugged, unbothered. 

_“Arya!”_ Sansa set her glass of eggs down on the table with a dull _thunk_ , grabbing the script and brushing the cover off, her hand now sticky with syrup. 

_Worst assistant_ **_ever._ **

Her eyes scanned the page quickly, her mouth dropping open. “This is for the big battle episode!” 

Arya hummed, nodding as she propped her feet on the couch, swallowing her mouthful. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that and I have a couple theories. Strategically, it makes much more sense if-” 

“No, stop talking.” Sansa shook her head, her eyes focused on the script as she flipped to the next page. 

Arya scoffed, pointing her fork at Sansa. _“Wow,_ all I was gonna say was-”

“Shut _up,_ Arya.” Sansa leaned back, her mind lost in the world of _Schemes for Sovereignty._

_\- - -_

Arya licked the syrup off her finger before she turned the next page of the script she had found on the couch, wrinkling her nose when she read the top line. 

_A second love interest? With_ **_that guy?_ **

Arya shuddered, feeling nauseous. She looked up at her sister when Sansa gasped loudly, her eyes wide and locked on the new script in her hands as she stood from her chair, the napkin on her lap falling to the floor. 

_“WHAT?!”_

Her voice was a shriek, making Arya wince at the volume. “What’s happened? Do you have to kneel in some mud or something?” She smirked, looking back at the script in her hands. “How tragic.” 

Sansa actually _growled,_ a deep noise coming from her throat as her hands tightened around the script. “He was supposed to _die!”_

Arya frowned, her eyebrows furrowing as she set her script beside her on the couch. “Who?”

Sansa huffed angrily, throwing the script down before she walked to her stairs. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fa/91/21/fa9121dbcaa9c0f4940b3f1ab1e55aed.jpg)

She bent down, pulling out the woven basket where she stored her clothing, angrily pulling out a pair of jeans and a green sweater before shoving the basket back in its spot. 

Arya sat up from the couch, watching her sister take off her pajama pants, throwing them on the stairs before putting her jeans on. “Who died, Sans?”

Sansa laughed incredulously, her eyebrows raised as she buttoned her jeans. _“No one,_ that’s the problem!” 

Arya rolled her eyes, her shoulders slouching. “Ok, well, I need more details - act it out, use your words.”

Sansa sighed, pulling her sweater on over her pajama shirt, brushing her hair out of her face. “Oh, I’ll _definitely_ be using my words! These writers think they can just.. this is my _livelihood_ , you know!” 

Arya nodded, her eyes wide as she sat back against the arm of the couch. “Yes, yes, your livelihood, we _know.”_

Sansa sighed, turning to her sister. “Arya, just.. can you be on my side? You’re kind of killing my major ‘storm out angrily’ vibe I was trying to generate.” 

Arya put a hand on her chest. “Oh, _please_ forgive me for killing your fucking _vibe._ What do you want? Righteous indignation? Should I go find a pitchfork?” 

Sansa shook her head, her voice exasperated as she walked to the door, sliding her feet into a pair of sturdy boots. “No just like.. general support would be great.” 

Arya nodded, pulling today’s script back in her lap, her voice bored. “You give ‘em hell, Sans. You tell those writers they can go choke on their own fucking piss, the bastards.” 

Sansa nodded, taking in a deep breath, her chin rising up primly as she turned to the door, muttering _that’s right, those bastards. Messing with my_ **_livelihood_ ** **,** _this is my_ **_life_ ** _, they can’t just-_

Her voice faded as she left the home, her steps angry and rushed down the steps, the door slamming shut behind her. Arya huffed a laugh, watching her sister’s red hair fade out into the snowy landscape through the window, her steps looking more like a baby clydesdale than an angry actress ready to cause hell. 

_Still. Go get ‘em, Sans._

She smirked, looking back down at the script, grimacing when she read what her sister had in store for the day. 

_Oh fucking gross, she has to_ **_kiss_ ** _this one? Blech._

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b8/fc/95/b8fc95dd9527cbc940eba4c6737fadbd.jpg)

Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, her feet sinking into the deep snow as she made her way down the line towards the writing office RV.

 _Pompous, selfish assholes. Messing with_ ** _my_** _liveliho-_

The door to the RV popped open, one of the writers greeting Sansa with a wide smile. “Sansa! We saw you walking across the snow, a bright rose on the dreary frozen landscape.”

Sansa smiled tightly, looking up at him. “Hi Petyr, yes, I was wondering if you and Varys had a moment?” 

Petyr grinned, the smile not reaching his eyes as he held the door open for her. “For you, my flower? Of course.” He moved to the side of the stairs so she could walk up, Sansa grimacing when she brushed up against him as she stepped quickly up the stairs into the main room of the RV. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/92/b6/e7/92b6e7ee7a30148f934d4b4f22e62420.jpg)

“Sansa! This is a surprise.” Varys looked up from the tablet in his hands, frowning as he looked at her clothing. “Oh dear, aren’t you cold? We can’t have you getting sick. Production has a tight schedule.” 

Sansa swallowed, shaking her head. “Oh, no, I’m.. from the North.” 

Varys made a small _ah_ noise, nodding his head. He raised an eyebrow expectantly at her, waiting. 

She smiled nervously. “I hope I’m not interrupting, I just.. wanted to ask about the new script.”

“Yes, a little bit of a change there.” Petyr sighed as he sat down on the small couch, tapping the spot next to him. She bit the inside of her cheek as she sat beside him, her back wedged up against the arm of the couch, putting as much space between them as possible.

Varys clasped his hands in his lap, leaning towards her, his eyebrow raised. “We saw your footage for the promos, Sansa. The chemistry between you and Sandor is very compelling - it caught us off guard, I must admit.” He sighed, leaning back in the chair. “When we originally wrote the script, we weren’t counting on that. The Hound was always meant to die in the big battle from day one, but now..” He trailed off, looking at her meaningfully. 

Sansa nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “But can’t we use that chemistry still? What if... what if the Hound still dies? Little Bird’s arc can change to one of mourning, a season full of black dresses - the goth fans will go crazy.” She laughed awkwardly, gesturing a hand to them. “I mean, I don’t have to tell you two how much the deaths hurt when the fans are _really_ invested. People will be devastated.” 

Varys hummed, tilting his head to the side. “We can still have a death at the end of the season. But for now, we think this new storyline will be quite successful - The Big Hound and the Little Bird. Quite poetic, really. Very _Beauty and the Beast_ -esque.” He smiled at her, reaching for his tablet, the meeting over. 

Sansa cleared her throat, wiping her palm off on her jeans. “Well, um.. unfortunately, I don’t think it will work as written now.” Varys and Petyr both raised an eyebrow at her and she took in a deep breath, raising her chin. “My contract. I have a no-nudity clause. I won’t be doing any sex scenes.” 

Petyr sniffed, nodding his head as he crossed his ankle on top of his knee, brushing non-existent dirt from the side of his leather shoe. “Right, about that. Your contract states that you can’t do any nudity if you feel uncomfortable - are you saying you’d feel uncomfortable with it?”

Sansa nodded. “Yes, exactly. I would be _very_ uncomfortable. Th-the people on set, and, you know, having a man touch my.. Yeah. I would be uncomfortable with all of it.” 

“Well..” Petyr’s eyes flicked over to Varys, Varys raising an eyebrow, his hand coming up to rub his chin thoughtfully. 

After a moment, he shrugged a shoulder at Petyr, his hand dropping to tap on the tablet, his interest in the conversation gone. 

Petyr sighed, reaching forward to place his hand on Sansa’s knee. “Well, if you’re uncomfortable with it, we can take care of it.” 

Sansa grinned, her shoulders sagging with relief. “Great! Th-that’s great, thank you so much!” 

Petyr smiled tightly, shrugging a shoulder. “I mean, it would’ve been great to work with you further but if this is how you want to end your career, who am I to try and convince you otherwise?”

Sansa frowned. “Wait, what? End my career?”

Petyr squeezed her knee. “Yes, sweetheart. If you won’t do the work, we’ll have to bring in another love interest for The Hound.” He blew the air out of his cheeks, shaking his head. “You had the talent to go the distance, that’s for sure. It’s a shame, really.” He looked over at Varys. “Do you have those other actresses lined up for the casting?”

Varys nodded, flipping the tablet around. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cf/91/6d/cf916d8a69bc9f20f355d8906ccb0cec.jpg)

Sansa swallowed, a spike of fear making her heart pound in her chest. She blinked, her mouth suddenly dry as she looked away from the tablet, down at the floor. 

Petyr rubbed his fingers along the top of her knee, making her shift away from him, his hand falling into open air. He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. “So. Is that your final answer? You’re uncomfortable?” 

Sansa sniffed, willing the tears pricking behind her eyes away, her jaw clenching tight as she looked at him, her voice hard. 

“No. I’ll do it.” 

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e8/bc/4d/e8bc4dfd1d2d756579cdd1714f54f8b3.jpg)

Sansa paced in front of the door, her arms crossed against her chest, fat snowflakes dusting her hair. 

_This is so stupid. He probably won’t even ca-_

_“Fuck me, Daddy!”_

She stopped, turning to gape at the door, her cheeks bright red as a high-pitched voice came from Sandor’s trailer. 

_“Harder, Daddy!”_

_Oh my gods._

Sansa covered her mouth, trying to stifle the incredulous laughter bubbling up from her throat, her eyes widening when she heard a loud groan coming from the trailer. 

“Ms. Stark?” 

“Oh!” Sansa turned around quickly, dropping her hand, her cheeks darkening when she saw a man standing behind her in a puffy jacket, a large tray in his hands, a silver dome in the center of it. She pointed to Sandor's door. “Um..I was just..” 

The man smiled warmly at her, his face rosy from the cold as he lifted the try slightly. “I’m Pod, Mr. Clegane’s new assistant.” 

“Oh, of course! I’m sorry.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she moved against the trailer, out of Pod’s way. He nodded gratefully as he passed, walking up to the door and kicking it loudly. 

Sansa winced. “No, um.. I think he’s.. busy.” 

Pod raised an eyebrow at her. “Mr. Clegane? No, I was just in there. He told me to ‘get the fuck out’ because my ‘beady eyes were sucking out his soul’.” He grinned, unbothered as he kicked the door again. 

Sansa shook her head. “Well, now he has compa-”

Sandor whipped the door open, shirtless, thick mottled scars covering his right shoulder and ribs as he panted, his muscles flexing with each breath, his eyes locked on Pod. “You’re fucking interrupting.” 

Pod nodded. “Just coming by to bring you breakfast, Mr. Clegane, then I’ll be out of your hair.” He held up the tray, his smile cheerful as he waited for Sandor to let him through. “They’ve finally opened the kitchens, I thought you might be hungry for more than cereal and protein powder.” 

Sandor sighed, rolling his eyes as he moved out of the doorway, letting Pod in. “Just put the food down and get the fuck out.” 

Pod nodded, his voice coming from inside the trailer. “Ms. Stark has come by for a visit as well.”

_Shit._

“What?” Sandor leaned down through the doorway, his head poking out into the cold air, his brows furrowed as he blinked at her, confused. He looked over in the direction of her home. “Are you..locked out?”

Sansa shook her head. “No, I um..” She leaned towards him, gesturing inside, lowering her voice. “I’m so sorry for interrupting, I told him you were… _busy.”_

Sandor frowned, shrugging a shoulder. “Just the morning workout.” 

Sansa felt her face heat up as she nodded, standing up straight. “Right, well. Whatever you want to call it.”

Sandor looked at her curiously as Pod exited the trailer, squeezing past Sandor with an armful of bunched up towels. “I’ll just take these to get cleaned, Mr. Clegane. They should be back in your room before you finish filming today.” 

Sandor rolled his eyes, annoyed. “I already told you to stop fucking calling me that.” 

Pod nodded. “So sorry, Mr. Clegane. Won’t happen again.” He walked away from them, whistling happily, his feet crunching in the snow.

Sandor clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily through his nose as he looked back at Sansa, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he took a small step back into his trailer, likely hiding from the bitter wind. “So why are you..” His voice trailed off as he looked at her expectantly. 

Sansa cleared her throat. “Oh, well, I just had a meeting and uh…” She flicked her eyes towards his trailer, lowering her voice again. “We can actually talk about it later if you want.” 

Sandor leaned towards her, his voice quiet. “Why the fuck are you whispering?”

Sansa shifted her weight. “Because of your.. your um.. _lady friend.”_

Sandor leaned back, his eyebrows raising as he stared at her.

Sansa frowned, stepping towards him as she reached out, her fingertips resting on his forearm. “Oh gods, I’m _so_ sorry. Your man friend - I just assumed, how thoughtless.”

Sandor choked, his eyes wide as he looked down at her hand touching his arm. “I don’t have a fucking _friend_ in my room, man or _lady.”_

Sansa tilted her head curiously, dropping her hand from his arm. “But what about the.. “ She lowered her voice, leaning towards him fractionally. _“..fuck me, daddy.”_

He looked up at her, surprised, the corner of his lips twitching with amusement. He narrowed his eyes in assessment before nodding, tilting his head towards the trailer. “Come on.” He stepped further inside, disappearing from view, leaving the door open.

Sansa’s eyes widened as she leaned forward with her hands on the door frame, calling out into the room. “Uh.. n-no thank you! I don’t.. need to meet anyone, thanks!”

“Just come the fuck inside, you’re letting the hot air out!”

She rolled her eyes, making a frustrated noise as she stepped into his trailer, stomping her feet on the mat just inside before pulling the door closed behind her. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/4f/a8/07/4fa80744a14b31295d1b25f4ab6c3b6b.jpg)

_“Fuck you, stranger, fuck you!”_

Sansa turned towards the voice, her eyes widening when she saw a gray bird perched happily on Sandor’s finger.

_“Give it to me hard, Daddy!”_ He squawked, his voice sounding weirdly human as he tilted his head, looking at her curiously.

 _“Oh.”_ Sansa beamed at the bird, her shoulders relaxing as she watched him ruffle his beak through his feathers. 

Sandor nodded, lifting his hand up slightly. “This is Stranger.”

 _“Fuck you, stranger, fuck you!”_ The bird flapped his wings, the tips brushing against Sandor’s chest as the bird bent down, taking Sandor’s fingers in between his beak, nibbling at him nervously.

Sandor hummed, turning around and placing his hand in front of a large wooden house on a tall pole in the corner.

Stranger stepped off his hand, walking to the bottom entrance and ducking down to disappear inside the house. _“Fuck you!”_

Sandor sighed, turning back to Sansa. “He doesn’t like new people.” 

“Oh.” Sansa looked behind him at the house, briefly seeing Stranger’s face through a small circular window before the bird moved away. She smiled, immediately charmed by the bird as she pointed her thumb at the door behind her. “Well, I can go then. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.” 

“No, I think it’s good for him.” Sandor moved over the staircase, pressing his fingers on a panel, the panel popping open. He grabbed a long sleeve shirt from a shelf inside, slipping it on over his head. “He can’t fucking hide forever.” He pushed the panel closed, eyeing her suspiciously. “The odds of you attacking him are pretty fucking low so... better company than most, I guess.” 

Sansa raised her eyebrows incredulously, amused. “‘Pretty fucking low’ as opposed to ‘something I would never do’? I see now what you think of me.” 

Sandor shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching as he focused on rolling his sleeves up his forearms. “Yeah, well..” 

Sansa laughed. “Oh, here you go with your _amazing_ wit again. And you don’t even have a hard dick this time to blame it on.”

Sandor’s hand froze on his sleeve as he looked up at her, surprised. 

Her eyes widened comically, cheeks heating as she cleared her throat, pointing to his groin. “I mean..” She laughed awkwardly. “..unless you do!”

 _Please don’t tell me you just_ **_pointed_ ** _at his_ **_dick_ ** _, Sansa._

She frowned, dropping her hand quickly, her face _burning_ as she shifted her weight on her feet, tucking her hands into her back pockets. “I mean.. that’s not what I meant.” 

Sandor’s eyebrows were nearly in his hairline as he watched her fidget, his arms crossing against his chest as he leaned against the stairs. “No, please, I’d fucking _love_ to hear what you meant.” 

_“Anyways.”_ Sansa sniffed, her chin rising primly in the air as she turned in his space, her eyes catching on the birdhouse. “You um.. So his name is Stranger?” 

Sandor frowned, his eyes flicking over to the birdhouse. “Yeah. It’s one of the only normal words he says. His old owners…” He shook his head. “Fucking dickheads.” Sansa frowned as he continued. “He was surrendered to a bird sanctuary but no one wanted him because he talks like a fucking porn star.” 

Sansa smiled, nodding. “He has quite a beak on him.” She looked back at the birdhouse, Stranger still hidden from view. “And you brought him on location?”

Sandor shrugged. “We film for months at a time, what the fuck else am I supposed to do with him?”

Sansa frowned, shrugging a shoulder. “My dog at my parent's house. I uh.. didn’t know we could bring pets.” 

Sandor shook his head, standing up from the wall. “I told my agent I wouldn’t come without him.” 

“Ah, an agent.” She nodded, pursing her lips. “I should get one of those.” 

Sandor raised an eyebrow. “Your fancy fucking school didn’t prep you for that?”

Sansa sighed, nodding. “No, they did, but agents take a twenty percent cut. My dad’s a lawyer, I thought if he looked over my contract..” She sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “That’s why I came here. I thought you should know, they have replacements lined up for us if we don’t.. bend to their will.”

Sandor shrugged, unbothered. “That’s probably normal for them - everyone is replaceable.” 

Sansa nodded, agreeing, her eyes wide. “Yes, I’m beginning to see that.” She looked down at his table, the new script waiting in a neat stack next to the tray of food Pod had brought in. She thought of the sex scene written for them and her cheeks heated as she gestured to the script. “So.. I’m guessing you haven’t read it yet?”

He shook his head, turning and walking back towards the couch, reaching up easily to the sleeping area and grabbing a well-worn script from the bed. He showed it to her, notes scribbled down the margins in messy handwriting, sections highlighted. “I can only focus on one at a time.” He raised an eyebrow at her as he reached up, tossing the script back into place. “I didn’t go to fucking _Arryn School of Assholes.”_

Sansa scoffed. “Ok, _what_ is your problem with my school? We aren’t assholes. We’re.. highly trained professionals. _Expertly_ trained.” 

Sandor pointed a finger at her. _“That._ You put yourself up on a fucking pedestal with your uppity-bullshit.” 

Sansa’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropping open. “I do _not!_ I just.. hold myself to high standards!”

Sandor rolled his eyes, walking over to the tray of food, lifting the dome. “Right. And your _standards_ make you huff around on set, too busy to talk to the _lowly_ production? Or was that thanks to Cersei’s finishing school?” He set the dome down on the table, looking up at her.

She reeled back, confused. _“What_ are you even talking about? I talk to production! I.. I talk to them all the time!” 

He raised an eyebrow at her, biting into a sausage link. “What is Jaq’s last name?” 

Sansa frowned. “What? That’s hardly..”

Sandor nodded, eating the rest of the sausage, looking down at the tray, talking around the food. “Do you know where he’s from? How long he’s been doing make up? His favorite type of pie?” 

_“Pie?”_ Sansa scoffed, her mind racing, trying to remember him ever eating in front of her. “He likes..ham.”

“He’s fucking vegan.” Sandor folded a blueberry pancake in half, pointing it at her. “You spend _hours_ with the fucker and you don’t know anything about him.”

Sansa shifted her weight, her chin rising defiantly. “Ok, well what is Osha’s las-”

“Bruni. She’s from farther North than this frozen shit’cicle. Been doing make up for eight years, fought with Jaq to be assigned to me cause she fucking hates doing full face beats. She likes prosthetics and blood the most but she’s also good at face painting, which she does at her nephew’s birthday party every year.” He took a bite from the pancake. “And her favorite pie is pumpkin. Extra whipped cream.”

Sansa gaped at him. “Ok, well.. that’s totally different. Jaq is.. Osha is _way_ friendlier!” 

“She is.” Sandor nodded, agreeing. “His last name is H’ghar and he studied at _House of Contour and Highlight_ in Braavos. He won’t shut the fuck up about it, if you cared enough to listen.” 

“Ok, great, I get it.” Sansa pointed to herself. “I’m a giant bitch, awesome.” She sighed, gesturing to the door. “This is my first real job, ok? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. So I stay in my trailer, study, go over my notes..” She blew the air out of her cheeks, rubbing her hand down her face, her shoulders sagging. 

Sandor looked at her, assessing. “Ok.” He set the remainder of his pancake down, brushing his hand off on his shirt. “Today’s scene - I’m the King, You’re Little Bird. Go.” 

“Wha-” She stood up, her shoulders tensing as he stepped towards her, lifting his chin snootily in the air, his voice flat. 

“I have to say, your gardens are most impressive.” 

Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes before she straightened her spine, her hands joining in a loose clasp in front of her. “I thank you, your Grace. The North is most proud of this accomplishment. We’ve worked hard to prepare for the coming winter.” 

Sandor locked eyes with her, stepping into her space. “I hope you understand my sincerity when I say this glass is hardly the most impressive thing I’ve seen in the North thus far.” His hand came up, his thumb barely grazing her chin, eyes roaming down to her lips, making her blush as she looked down at the floor, her voice small. 

“You flatter me with your compliments, your Grace.” 

Sandor hummed, stepping away from her, the scene broken as he moved back to the tray of food, picking up a piece of pineapple from a bowl of mixed fruit. “You know this character inside and out. You have good instincts - stop hiding in your room.” 

Sansa huffed a laugh, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, her shoulders relaxing. She walked over to the table, brushing her finger over the new script, her eyes following the movement. “Did you learn that at an acting school?”

Sandor shook his head, picking up a fresh pancake, holding it out to her, his eyebrow raised in question. She smiled faintly, nodding, taking it from his hand as he continued. “No. I’m a fucking plumber.” 

Sansa gaped at him, her pancake frozen in the air as her eyes went wide. He nodded, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Casting director’s pipes burst at 3am, I showed up to fix them. She saw my scars and thought I’d make a good bodyguard for the king.” He shrugged. “First year was a non-speaking part, then a few lines here and there..” He gestured to the room, his arm out wide. “And now here we are.”

Sansa shook her head, still amazed. “My gods, I had no idea you were a _plumber!”_ He raised an eyebrow at her and she pursed her lips. “..because I never asked.” 

He nodded, taking a smug bite of pineapple, making her laugh. She rolled her eyes, looking down at the pancake in her hand. “Ok, you win this round. Point made, Clegane.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read this interview one time about celebrities and what they spent their first big paycheck on - it's my headcanon that Sandor spent his first paycheck on Stranger's mack-daddy house. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked what you read, they make my day! Thank you for following along with these two crazy kids!


	3. Your Glass Gardens are Most Impressive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii!! So my Beta (hi omw_to_winterfell!! You're my favorite!💛🖤) and I lovingly call this chapter Groundhog's Day. There are some POV switches with a scene replay...
> 
> But you know what? You're smart. You'll figure it out. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lyanna brought her fingers to her mouth, whistling loudly. “You guys! Do I need to bring back the megaphone?” There was a general grumble of opposition from the group, everyone quieting down quickly. Sansa stood off to the side, her hands clasped in front of her casually as she listened to Lyanna shout instructions at various crew members.

“Shouldn’t they set everything up  _ then _ call us from our trailers when they’re ready?” 

Her shoulders tensed at the voice, Joffrey coming to a stop beside her, his fingers flexing against the leather of the King’s gloves as he watched the crew working around them. “I’ve never understood why we have to wait in the same area as the  _ workers.” _

Sansa wrinkled her nose at him before looking down at the wide gap between herself and Joffrey and the rest of the crew. She frowned, her eyes moving up to scan the area, spotting Sandor easily in the crowd clapping a sound technician on the back as the tech laughed and pointed up to the boom mic in his hand. 

She turned to Joffrey, her voice light. “Would you excuse me? I just have a question for..” She pointed to the mass of people milling around the set, everyone working to get ready to film the next scene. 

Joffrey nodded, reaching up to adjust the King’s crown on his head as she stepped away, walking towards Sandor. She weaved through the group, brushing her hair out of her face once she made it to his side, her smile uncertain. 

The corner of Sandor’s lips twitched as he nodded to her, looking back at the sound tech. “Tarly, you know Stark.” 

Sansa smiled at him, his face bright red as he stuttered, his eyes not meeting hers. “O-of course, Ms. Stark. It’s n-nice to meet you - or, more than nice, really. I’m S-sam. Tarly.” He gestured up to Sandor, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth.

Sansa’s smile grew as she nodded to him. “Hi, Sam.” She waited for him to say something but he just dropped his eyes down to the floor, wiping at sweat collecting under his nose, clearly uncomfortable.

She looked up at Sandor, her confidence evaporating when she realized she had no idea what to say. Sandor raised an eyebrow at her, not coming to her rescue. 

She scowled at him, the silence becoming awkward before she took in a deep breath. “Um.. so, Sam.” Her eyes flicked up to Sandor briefly before looking back at the sound tech. “Um..do you.. like pie?”

Sandor snorted, a sound he didn’t even bother to cover as Sansa died inside, her smile tense while she watched Sam. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape as he looked at her. “P-pie?”

Sansa nodded, her cheeks reddening from embarrassment. 

_My gods,_ ** _pie?_** _You’re an idiot, no one wants to talk about_ ** _pie_** _, just move back over next to Joffr-_

Sam shifted the harness on his shoulders, his brows furrowing. “Um.. y-yes. I like pie.” He swallowed thickly, looking over at Sandor. Sandor shrugged, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched her humiliation unfold. She narrowed her eyes at him.

_ Bastard. _

His lips twitched as he looked back at Sam, Sam shifting his weight on his feet. “Um.. my Nan, she.. she makes a great pecan pie. F-from an old family recipe, I believe.” 

Sansa grabbed onto the nugget he had given her, desperate. “Oh, really? What um.. Where is your family from?”

Sam blinked at her. “Horn Hill. It’s just south of Highgarden.”

Sansa smiled, her face lighting up. “My dad goes hunting there every year! He says Horn Hill has the best turkey he’s ever tasted.” 

Sam’s posture relaxed as he nodded. “Yeah, yes, we do. My dad takes my brother and I whenever I visit home - well, I don’t really like it, I’m not very good. Not like my brother.”

Sansa laughed, nodding. “Oh,  _ gods, _ I’m  _ awful _ at it. My brothers and sister always tried to show me up when we went as kids, which only made me look that much worse.” She grinned when he huffed a laugh, feeling more confident. “So, Sam, what um.. kind of stuff do you like to do when you aren’t being forced to hunt?”

Sam’s cheeks reddened as he cleared his throat, switching the boom mic over to his other hand. “Oh, well… I uh, I really rather enjoy reading, if I’m honest.” 

“Me  _ too!”  _ She reached a hand forward, her fingertips brushing his arm. “I just finished this book - The Golden Hand. Have you heard of it?” 

Sam nodded, smiling hesitantly. “Yes, I’ve read it before. I found the lead character to be quite arrogant, though.” 

Sansa took a step towards him, moving so a camera tech could squeeze behind her. “Oh my  _ gods _ , he was  _ terrible! _ You know, I heard a rumor it’s actually based on Jaime Lannister.” 

Sam laughed, nodding as they talked, neither noticing Sandor, a small smirk on his face as he clapped Sam on the shoulder before walking away. 

_ \- - - _

Sansa picked up her heavy dress as she moved through the gardens, getting into place to begin filming. 

“So.” Sandor came up next to her, the plants brushing against him as they walked. “Do you like  _ pie?”  _

Sansa laughed, her cheeks pink as she smacked him on the arm. “Oh, shut  _ up.” _

She heard Sandor huff a laugh as he broke away, going to stand on his mark for the scene, guarding the far exterior door of the greenhouse. She smiled to herself, dropping her skirts when she spotted her little red piece of tape to stand on, her chest feeling light when she thought about her new friend. She looked around for him, grinning when she saw him giving her a shy smile as he held the boom mic in place above Joffrey. She waved to Sam as Lyanna stood in the middle of the group, addressing everyone. 

“Alright people,  _ hey _ , production crew, shut up and listen.” She sighed, looking down at her clipboard. “Director’s notes for the talent are to play it exactly in character but also give it a little unexpected out-of-character flair, any questions?” She raised an eyebrow at Joffrey, Sandor and Sansa. 

Sansa and Sandor both shook their heads, Joffrey’s chin rising in the air as he sniffed pompously. “I need makeup to touch up my face before we begin, I feel  _ smudged.”  _

A makeup assistant stepped forward, her brush working smoothly over his skin as Lyanna rolled her eyes, looking back down at her clipboard. “Director’s notes for crew are to not fuck anything up. Any questions?” 

Theon called out from the crowd, a cheeky grin on his face. “Oy, why is the director never here to give us his notes himself? Has anyone even met this GRRM? Who the fuck is that?” 

Lyanna nodded, making a note on her paper. “Great, Theon, I’ve written down that  _ catering _ has challenged the Director’s credentials. I’ll be sure he gets that note while  _ you _ get me a sandwich. Now, anyone else have any questions? Great. Cameras?”

Theon sighed, turning to exit the set as Yara smirked at her brother, both she and Gendry stepping forward, cameras mounted on their shoulders. 

Sansa saw Sandor close his eyes, his jaw clenching, brows furrowing as he opened his eyes again, his shoulder tensed in a way that always read as  _ The Hound  _ to her. She nodded to herself, breathing in deeply through her nose, her chin rising into the air as Lyanna yelled out “Action!” from her seat behind the monitors. 

_ \- - - _

“I have to say, your glass gardens are impressive.” 

Little Bird smiled proudly, her hands clasped behind her back as she walked down the path in the Glass Gardens with The King. “I thank you, your Grace. The North is most proud of this accomplishment. We’ve worked exceptionally hard to prepare for the coming winter.” 

The King stopped, turning to face her, brushing the tip of his gloved finger down the side of her face. “I hope you understand my sincerity when I say this glass is hardly the most impressive thing I’ve seen in the North thus far.” His eyes turned lecherous as they trailed down her face, down her neck, lingering on her chest wrapped in the faux-wolf pelt of her dress. 

Little Bird smiled tensely, her voice flat as she walked forward down the path. “You flatter me with your compliments, your Grace. Although I would think you easily impressed after being imprisoned in that dreadful tower for so long.” She turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. “Your injuries are all recovered, I hope?” 

The King nodded, stepping towards her, the movement off-script. “Perhaps I should show you, my Lady.” His hands gripped her arms, trapping her in place as he pulled her towards him roughly, his tongue sliding between her lips, nearly making her gag. 

_ “No.” _ Her voice was muffled against his lips, her hands moving to push at his chest until he suddenly disappeared, jerked backwards, his hands letting go of her body.

Sansa turned from the camera quickly, facing the windows, her hand wiping at her mouth as she breathed in deeply through her nose, her eyes blinking rapidly, trying to keep her shocked tears from falling. 

_Gross, gross, gross.._

“What the  _ hell _ was that?!” Sansa heard Lyanna’s angry voice and she turned, seeing Lyanna stepping around the monitors, yanking her headphones down around her neck, her face livid as she glared at Joffrey. 

Sansa looked over at Joffrey, her eyes wide when she saw him dangling from his collar, his feet off the ground, Sandor’s face in a sneer as he held him up. 

Joffrey’s face was red as he swiped at Sandor’s hand. “Let  _ go  _ of me, you Hound!” 

Sandor bared his teeth as he raised Joffrey higher, his voice a quiet, hissed whisper. “I’m not the fucking Hound.” 

He looked over at Sansa, raising an eyebrow at her, his eyes grazing over her face. She nodded, her hand wiping at her mouth again as she swallowed thickly, her heart racing. He nodded, setting Joffrey down roughly, the blonde bending down to pick up The King’s crown off the floor. “You  _ animal _ , you can’t just  _ yank civilized people around!”  _ He grimaced at his wrinkled costume, brushing his hand down his sleeve forcefully. 

Lyanna scoffed. “Uh, actually he can - when  _ you’re assaulting a coworker.” _

Sansa’s cheeks burned bright red, her eyes locked on the floor, not looking at anyone although she could feel the eyes of the crew on her.

Joffrey's voice was affronted as he spewed. _"Assault?!_ It's not _assault!_ It's in the _script!"_

Lyanna’s voice was still furious. “Not _yet!_ The King is supposed to introduce the idea of marriage to join their territories - what the  _ fuck _ were you thinking?!”

She heard Joffrey scoff and she wrinkled her nose, thinking of his stupid slimy tongue in her mouth. “Why would The King waste his time delicately introducing an idea when he can just  _ take what he wants?!  _ He’s the  _ King!”  _

She heard Lyanna sputter before she let out a sharp exhale, her tone sarcastic. “While I _ admire _ you for sticking to the historically accurate sexism, why don’t you try  _ sticki-” _

Sansa felt a tap on her arm and she turned while Lyanna continued, smiling faintly when she saw Sam holding out an unopened water bottle for her. “Here. You might.. want to wash away whatever disease he might’ve...” He looked over at Joffrey, who was now stomping off set.

Sansa nodded, her chest warm as she took the bottle, her hand resting on Sam’s arm. “Thank you, Sam.” 

She twisted the top open, taking a drink as Sam blushed, shrugging a shoulder. “Well, I actually can’t take credit for the idea, as much as I agree with it.” 

Sansa frowned, tilting her head curiously and Sam smiled, pointing behind Sansa.

“You ok? Fucking asshole.”

_ \- - - _

“I have to say, your glass gardens are impressive.” 

The Hound narrowed his eyes at The King as he and Little Bird walked down the path in the gardens, Little Bird smiling. “I thank you, your Grace. The North is most proud of this accomplishment. We’ve worked exceptionally hard to prepare for the coming winter.” Her chin rose slightly, a well-pleased smile on her face as she looked around at the gardens - the picture of a noble lady proud of her people’s work ethic.

_ You’re a good Queen, Little Bird.  _

The Hound’s chest puffed up, liking seeing his woman like this, chirping her fucking royal courtesies.

_ I know what you really are though. A Red Wolf. _

The King stopped, turning to face her, brushing the tip of his finger down the side of her face and the Hound frowned. 

_ Watch it, fucker. _

“I hope you understand my sincerity when I say this glass is hardly the most impressive thing I’ve seen in the North thus far.” His eyes trailed down her body, lingering on her chest wrapped in the tight dress.

The Hound growled, taking an involuntary step forward. 

_ Don’t look at her fucking tits, you dirty cunt.  _

Little Bird smiled, the emotion not reaching her eyes as she walked forward down the path, her tone bored. “You flatter me with your compliments, your Grace. Although I would think you easily impressed after being imprisoned in that dreadful tower for so long.” She turned back to him, politely curious. “Your injuries are all recovered, I hope?” 

The King nodded, stepping towards her and Sandor narrowed his eyes at the unscripted movement. “Perhaps I should show you, my Lady.” The King gripped her arms tightly-

_ Oh  _ **_fuck no_ ** _ , do you have a fucking death wish, you fucking idio- _

Sandor’s blood boiled, his feet moving towards Sansa without him making a conscious thought. He reached forward, wrenching Baratheon off of her, his brain quickly calculating if the lawyer fees were worth punching the opportunistic asshole in the face. 

_ Yeah, I think they fucking are.  _

He balled his fist up as Mormont walked onto set, her face livid. 

“What the  _ hell _ was that?!” She glared at Baratheon hanging from Sandor’s hand, the pretentious fucktwat hitting Sandor’s arm uselessly, his face red from the effort. 

“Let  _ go  _ of me, you Hound!” 

Sandor bared his teeth, already writing a check in his mind to cover the cost of breaking the cunt’s stupid pointed nose, his voice low. “I’m not the fucking Hound.” 

_ She better not be fucking upset, you sick fuck.  _

He looked over at Sansa, raising an eyebrow as he scanned her face, trying to spot any injuries. She nodded, the color coming back to her cheeks as she wiped at her mouth, her hand dropping to her side after, her chin rising slightly. 

He growled, opening his hand and letting Baratheon drop rougher than necessary, ultimately deciding Sansa might be more embarrassed than grateful if he made a bigger scene. 

_ Fucker deserves a fucking black eye for that bullshit stunt. _

Baratheon stood up and turned to him, his face twisted in an indignant frown. “You  _ animal _ , you can’t just  _ yank civilized people around!” _

Mormont scoffed, gesturing to Sansa. “Uh, actually he can - when  _ you’re assaulting a coworker.” _

Sansa’s cheeks darkened, her previous confidence evaporating quickly as everyone in the crew looked at her.

_ Damnit. _

He heard Joffrey huffing indignantly but he ignored him, instead catching Tarly’s eye and gesturing with his chin down at the water bottle sticking out of Tarly’s cargo pants pocket. He tilted his head towards Sansa, making a drinking gesture, Tarly’s face brightening before he nodded and walked over to Sansa.

Sandor looked back at Baratheon, the fucker scoffing at Mormont as if she were simple. “Why would The King waste his time delicately introducing an idea when he can just  _ take what he wants?!  _ He’s The King!” 

Mormont rolled her eyes, her jaw tense as she exhaled sharply, stepping into Baratheon’s space, her head tilted back to look up at him. “While I  _ admire _ you for sticking to historically accurate sexism, why don’t you try  _ sticking to the script _ you’re being paid to perform!” 

She held her hand out to an assistant, the Frey girl handing her a stack of papers, Mormont shoving the script into Baratheon’s hands. “Here. Study it. Remember that the  _ bad _ king was killed last season and try not to act like such a transparent  _ dick.” _

Baratheon sputtered, his voice a shrill screech.  _ “You can’t talk to me that way!”  _ He threw the script down on the floor like a child before raising his chin and huffing off set, screaming over his shoulder.  _ “I’m calling my MOTHER!” _

Mormont turned to the crew, annoyed. “Alright everyone - take five while we get this sorted out.” She weaved through the crowd, disappearing as Sandor rolled his eyes, moving through the people towards Sansa and Tarly. 

She was smiling at Tarly, her shoulders relaxed, which made the tight ball of anger still sitting in his stomach loosen a little. “You ok? Fucking asshole.”

Sansa nodded, her eyes warm as she looked up at him. ‘Yeah, I am.” She held the bottle up. “Thank you for this.” 

Sandor cleared his throat as he shifted his weight, uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah, well..” 

Sansa's smile grew as she leaned towards Tarly, her voice a stage whisper. “Get ready, Sam. He’s gonna  _ amaze _ us with his wit now.” 

_ \- - - _

“Alright, people, listen up!” Mormont stood in front of the crew, her hands up in the air to get everyone’s attention. The group stopped talking and she put her hands down, smirking over her shoulder. “Apparently  _ Mommy Dearest’s  _ influence has run out because Boy Wonder has been returned to us to finish filming the scene.” 

The crew all laughed, jeering at Baratheon as he huffed, crossing his arms and turning to face the windows. Someone threw a balled up paper at the back of his head and he turned quickly, his jaw gaping at the group.  _ “Who did that!?  _ I want a  _ name!” _

He waited but no one stepped forward, everyone standing in silence, their eyes hard with mob solidarity. He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he turned to Mormont. “Are you going to have this  _ harassment _ on the set, Lyanna?” 

Mormont shrugged, her eyes on her clipboard. “Didn’t see anything, Joff, so sorry.” She cleared her throat, addressing the group. “Ok so, we’re gonna start at the top - quick change though, The Hound is now going to be walking  _ behind _ The King and Little Bird instead of guarding the entrance.” She narrowed her eyes at Baratheon. “..just in case.” 

_ Fuck yeah. _

Sandor sniffed, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he raised an eyebrow at Baratheon, the little shit sneering at him. 

“Um, actually.” Sansa’s voice rang out, making Sandor frown. He looked over at her, seeing her hand raised politely in the air. She smiled timidly at the crew, all eyes on her as she lowered her hand. “I uh.. I would like to film it as written.” 

Mormont raised an eyebrow, her voice low as she turned to Sansa. “You’re sure? It would be believable to have the King’s guard behind him while he walked through the garden.”

Sansa ran her hand over her dress, her nod confident despite her pinked cheeks. “Yep, I’m sure. I just.. want to try it again.” 

Baratheon looked over at Sandor, his face cocky as he raised an eyebrow, holding his arm out for Sansa to take. She looked down at it and scoffed before brushing past him, Sandor’s eyes locked on her red hair as she walked over to her mark by herself. 

Baratheon shrugged, dropping his arm before giving Sandor a wink, calling out over his shoulder. “Can I get makeup? My lips are feeling so..  _ chapped.”  _

Sandor grit his teeth, his fists balling up involuntarily but Mormont stepped in front of him with her hand out, her voice low. “His mom doesn’t have any influence left on  _ this _ show but Tywin Lannister’s name is still a powerful one in the business.”

Sandor shrugged, his eyes narrowing at Baratheon as Makeup touched up his face. “I don’t give a shit about the business.” 

Mormont nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. But there are other names they could drag down in the mud besides yours - other names that are just getting their big break that  _ would _ care.” She looked at him meaningfully and he sighed, his fists relaxing as he rolled his eyes, still angry. 

She shrugged a shoulder, her eyes moving down to her clipboard. “I know. It’s bullshit. But it’s the business. Just…” She looked back up at him, dropping her clipboard. “Stay alert for this next scene, ok? I’m not gonna have him assaulting her again, Lannister or not.” 

Sandor nodded, his eyes flicking over to Sansa, the actress talking to a set assistant, a script between them. “Yeah, fine, I’ll..keep an eye out.” 

Mormont nodded, satisfied, her hands moving to put her headphones into place as she turned to address the crew. “Ok everybody - places!”

_ \- - - _

“I have to say, your glass gardens are most impressive.” 

Sandor narrowed his eyes at The King as he and Little Bird walked down the path, Little Bird smiling, her face pleased. “I thank you, your Grace. The North is most proud of this accomplishment. We’ve worked exceptionally hard to prepare for the coming winter.”

The King stopped, turning to face her, a smirk on his lips as he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

Sandor frowned, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach as he watched them. 

“I hope you understand my sincerity when I say this glass is hardly the most impressive thing I’ve seen in the North thus far.” His eyes trailed down her body, his eyebrow raising appreciatively as he watched her chest rise when she took a breath in. 

Sandor growled, his fists balling up at his sides.

_ Dirty fucking cu- _

Little Bird laughed, the sound light as she brushed her hand against his chest. “Oh, you flatter me with your compliments, your Grace.” She dropped her hand, walking forward through the gardens. “Although I would think you easily impressed after being imprisoned in that dreadful tower for so long.” She turned back to him, raising an eyebrow, a coy smile on her lips. “Your injuries are all recovered, I hope?” 

Sandor frowned, the unsettled feeling in his stomach getting heavier as he watched her bat her eyelashes at the King.

_ What the fuck? _

Joffrey looked over his shoulder at Sandor, raising an eyebrow smugly before turning back to Little Bird, his voice just as smarmy as his face. “All healed, I assure you.” He held his arm out to her and she took it, smiling demurely as he led her down the path, Sandor going against script and following them, staying out of the shot but keeping them in his line of sight. 

The King cleared his throat. “I was hoping to discuss an important matter with you - a proposal, in fact.”

Little Bird stopped walking, her arm slipping away from his as her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. “A proposal? Perhaps for a trade agreement?”

The King shook his head, taking her hand in his. “No, fair Queen, I want to propose a marriage - I want you to be  _ my  _ Queen. Our kingdoms combined would make up a vast majority of the continent.” He stepped closer, his voice quiet. “And you would be the sole Queen in the kingdom of my heart.”

Sandor rolled his eyes with a grimace.

_Fucking hell._

“Oh.” Little Bird’s mouth fell open in a delicate sense of shock, her eyebrows raising as she looked at The King. “My Grace, but.. surely you aren’t over the death of your bride? So soon after the wedding?”

The King shook his head, tucking a piece of hair behind Little Bird’s ear, his voice soft. “No, I.. I miss my Rose every day. I think of her often - every time a sweet wind blows across my cheek.” He sighed, looking into the garden longingly. 

_ For fuck’s sake.  _

Sandor fought to keep from gagging as The King looked back at Little Bird, his eyes wet. “But when I look at you, I feel hope again. I feel.. alive. If I could just.. have a taste..” He leaned forward, Sandor’s chest tightening unpleasantly as The King’s eyes closed, going in for the scripted kiss. 

“Oh, Your Grace, I can’t.” Little Bird put her hand on his chest, pushing him away gently, breaking script but staying in character. 

The King blinked at her, unsure of what to do. “Uhhh..” 

Little Bird smiled, shaking her head. “It would be dishonorable for me to kiss you, Your Grace.” 

The King frowned, stuttering, trying to move close to her again. “N-no, actually, it’s fine.” 

Little Bird smiled, her face soft as her hand firmly pushed him away, The King stumbling back a step.  _ “No,  _ Your Grace, it’s  _ not _ fine. A man of your station needs a wife who would honor you by keeping herself pure. I need to protect my virtue if I ever hope to be such a woman.” 

Sandor smirked, shaking his head.

_ Cunning Red Wolf. _

Baratheon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked over at production. “She can’t do that! She can’t just.. go against script! We’re  _ supposed  _ to kiss!” 

Mormont shrugged, her eyes on the clipboard in her hands as she pulled her headphones off, grabbing a pencil from the outstretched hand of her assistant. “Actually, I think Sansa just caught a major plot hole in the script - historically speaking, yeah, there wouldn’t be a kiss there.” She smirked at Sansa, raising an eyebrow. “Good catch.” Sansa grinned, her cheeks blushing as she nodded, please.

Mormont turned to the crew, her voice loud. “Ok everyone, take five while I sort this out with the writers!” 

Baratheon scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “Oh,  _ come on!  _ This is  _ bullshit!”  _

Sansa wrinkled her nose at him before walking over to Sandor’s side, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she raised her chin to him. 

Sandor scoffed, rolling his eyes, amused. “You look fucking pleased with yourself.”

Sansa shrugged, both of them looking at Baratheon as he continued his tantrum. “Yeah, that felt pretty good if I’m honest.” 

Sandor raised an eyebrow, his arms mirroring hers, crossing in front of his chest as they stood side by side. “Well, you might’ve just figured out a way to stop all your romance scenes. 

Sansa shook her head. “No, I don’t think the writers will give up on Little Bird and The Hound. The fans want it too badly.” 

Sandor looked over at her. “I don’t know, you could probably figure out some strategy to get out of it.” 

Sansa hummed, her eyes on her shoe as she scuffed her heel against the ground. “Maybe. But odds are Little Bird is gonna get a romance arc eventually - better the devil I know.” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, dropping his arms. “So now I’m a devil?”

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of her lips tugging up into a smirk. “Well you’re certainly not a  _ saint,  _ Clegane.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts, I live for any and every comment! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 💛💛💛


	4. Nice Tits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Welcome back! I hope you enjoy! More notes at the end

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/60/04/3e/60043e5199a9179c08c8591c56ab1f03.jpg)

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/11/1a/77/111a77f638e748c90c299d8d380552e4.jpg)

Little Bird looked down into the training yard, the men below hacking at each other with swords, their blades singing through the air with each strike.

“How are they?”

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bb/ff/02/bbff026109fdb437eca2dc1018a3221a.jpg)

The Hound shrugged, reluctantly dragging his eyes up from her ass to focus on what she was saying. 

“They’re shite.” 

Little Bird frowned, brushing her gloved palm against the top of the wooden railing. “Those are my people you’re talking about.” 

The Hound sniffed, rolling his eyes when he saw a man below swing wide, leaving his entire left side open for an attack. 

_Fucking hell._

“They’re loyal to you. They would die for their fucking North. Their Queen.” He shrugged a shoulder, his voice bored. “Most of them probably will because they’re fucking shite.” 

The Queen hummed, her hands tightening on the railing as she observed her men, the Hound resuming his observation of _her._ “Then I suppose they’ll need someone to train them up, prepare them for battle.” 

_Damnit woman, I don’t want to do that horseshit._

The Hound exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenched tight. “I’m the King’s Hound last time I checked. I follow his fucking orders.” 

The Queen looked over her shoulder at him, her eyebrow raised gracefully. “Is that so?” The corner of her mouth twitched before she turned around, her back to him. “And do you usually concern yourself with your King’s ass as you do mine?” 

The Hound growled as he stepped forward, his body close to hers while still leaving space, still _decent,_ per her noble fucking status _._

“You _frustrating_ woman.” 

He looked down at the floor as he closed his eyes, the scent of her soap reaching his nose, making the Hound’s blood heat. 

_I want that scent on my bed, soaking my pillow._

_Damn, that actually smells pretty fucking good. Is that lemon?_

Sandor blinked, momentarily thrown, his eyebrows furrowing as he cleared his throat, switching back into character.

The Hound leaned down, his eyes watching the men below, making sure they weren’t paying attention as he whispered into her ear. “Come to my bed tonight.” 

Little Bird looked over her shoulder, her cheeks pink as she regarded him for a moment before nodding once. “Yes, Clegane, I will.” 

_Wait, what?_

Sandor’s eyes went wide as Mormont yelled from behind the monitors. _“CUT!”_

Sansa’s mouth dropped open, her hand flying to her forehead. “Oh shit, _The Hound!”_ She turned to the crew, her cheeks bright red. “Oh gods, I’m sorry you guys! I’m so sorry, I.. just.. _The Hound!_ I obviously meant The Hound! Not.. oh _gods.”_

Mormont shrugged, unbothered as she pulled her headphones down around her neck. “No big deal, Sansa. It happens, we can reset. Oh,” She looked down at her clipboard. “Quick note for Clegane - I loved how you stretched out the torture of him smelling her hair. It was so subtle but really made an impact, great idea.” She turned to the crew. “Where’s Hodor? Can we get Hodor in here to reset these lights? I want to try angling them a bit more.” 

Sansa turned to Sandor, her voice quiet as the crew worked around them. “I’m so sorry I messed up that take. I just... got confused.” 

Sandor shrugged, taking a step back as he scratched under his chin. “Right. It’s fine.” 

Sansa shook her head, gesturing with her hands. “I mean, I just… that specific moment, it’s not like I was thinking of _you_ , specifically, I just.. you know, with acting...” 

Sandor nodded, swallowing thickly. “Right. With acting.” 

Sansa laughed awkwardly, her smile tight. “Right! Acting!” 

She blinked a few times, looking out into the yard as they waited for the crew to set up the lights, neither of them making eye contact. She cleared her throat, looking like she was going to say something before changing her mind, pursing her lips instead, her brows furrowed. 

_It’s fucking awkward. Say something._

Sandor took in a deep breath, exhaling it through his nose sharply when he realized his mind had never been more blank in his entire fucking life and he had nothing to say. 

_Ask her why she said your name._

Sandor’s eyes went wide as he shook his head, turning to lean his forearms on the railing, blowing the air out of his cheeks. 

“Did you say something?” Sansa looked at him desperately, her eyebrow raised. 

“Nope.” He rasped, his mouth unbearably dry. He stood, wiping his gloved-palms off against his chest, his heart racing as he looked at her briefly before looking over at the wall. 

“Ok, guys! We’re all set.” Mormont gave them a thumbs up, putting her headphones back on as she sat back down in her canvas chair behind the monitors.

“Great!” Sansa’s voice was overly bright as Sandor nodded, both of them moving back to their beginning marks, the scene starting over. 

“Ok, action!” 

Sandor took in a deep breath, closing his eyes to switch his mindset. 

_Why’d she say your fucking name though?_

_\- - -_

“Great!” Her voice was squeaky as she returned Lyanna’s thumbs up, stepping over on top of her mark. She winced, brushing her hands down her dress. 

_Gods, calm down. It was just a simple mistake._

“Ok, action!” 

Sansa sniffed, her shoulders straightening, a Queen looking out over her men now. She heard The Hound come stand behind her and she looked at him over her shoulder.

“How are they?” 

The Hound shrugged, his eyes moving up her body slowly before meeting her gaze.

 _Gods, his eyes are like.. intense._

“They’re shite.” 

Little Bird frowned, turning to look at the men below. “Those are my people you’re talking about.” 

_They’re good people. Focus on the people, Sansa._

The Hound sniffed, the wooden boards below their feet squeaking as he shifted his weight. “They’re loyal to you. They would die for their Queen of the fucking North.” He paused. “Most of them probably will because they’re fucking shite.”

_Damn. I’ll need The Hound’s help then. We need to survive this war._

The Queen sighed, placing her hands on the wooden railing. “They’ll need someone to train them, prepare them for the battle to come.” 

The Hound exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering _fuck_ under his breath, annoyed. “Last time I checked, I follow The King’s fucking orders.” 

_Oh, really?_

The Queen looked over her shoulder at him, catching him looking at her body again. “Is that so?” She tried to hide her amusement at his dumb expression, looking back out over the training yard. “And do you usually concern yourself with your King’s ass as you do mine?” 

The Hound growled as he stepped forward, his chest pressing against her back, her eyes widening in surprise at the unscripted contact as he hissed between his teeth, his voice low. “You fucking _frustrating_ woman.” 

She turned to look up at him, surprised to find his face so close to hers. He raised an eyebrow at her, the movement making her stomach swoop.

_What the hell is he doing?_

The Queen looked back down at the men below, her words a quiet hiss out the side of her mouth. “Have you forgotten we’re in public, _Hound?”_

She didn’t move away from him despite her words, the hum of his voice pressing into her back as he spoke. “Come to my bed tonight.” 

Sansa swallowed, her pulse quickening as she looked up into his eyes. “Um..” She felt flustered, unable to focus as he dropped his eyes down to her lips, waiting. 

“Little Bird...say you’ll come.” 

_Oh, right. Acting._

Little Bird cleared her throat, her chin rising in the air fractionally. “Yes, Hound. I will.” 

_“CUT!”_

Sansa exhaled slowly, her hands tightening on the railing as Sandor moved away from her, no longer pressing into her back. 

“That was good! _Really_ good.” Lyanna was nodding as she made a note on her clipboard, her headphones already off and hanging on the back of her canvas chair. “The chemistry was golden in that last take. Do you guys feel ok with what we’ve got?” She glanced up at the pair of them, her pencil going still as she waited. 

“Um..” Sansa looked over at him, surprised to see him looking back at her, his eyes roaming over her face, seemingly looking for something. The corner of his mouth twitched but he stayed silent, prompting her to answer first. 

Her cheeks pinked as she looked away from him, nodding to Lyanna. “I’m..it was fine for me.” 

Lyanna’s eyes moved over to Sandor, who must’ve given some type of positive confirmation because Lyanna nodded once, looking down at her clipboard. “Good. Then we’ll cut it there, move on to the next scene. I’m going to need Gendry and Sam to go with Sansa on primary, Yara and Jojen are moving to B shots with Clegane down in the yards - I want to get these filmed before the sun sets today, people..” Her voice faded as she turned away, directing the crew to set up for the next scenes. 

Sansa’s eyes dropped down to the railing under her hands - she could feel his eyes on her and her cheeks heated. She knew he was waiting for her to look up at him so she focused on the railing instead, tracing the wood grain with the pad of her gloved finger, anything to avoid his gaze. 

She heard him exhale, his palm tapping the railing in her peripheral vision before he walked away, his heavy boots making the wood strain beneath his feet as he left her. 

She looked up just as he disappeared inside the castle, feeling like a coward. 

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/f9/55/eaf955890483524286392908987fa837.jpg)

Sansa sighed, rolling her head side to side, exhausted from a day of filming shots of the Queen tending to the castle. She walked into the dining room, a long hall with tables down the length of it and a buffet set up on one end. It was nearly empty, just a few members of production dotted throughout the space, their faces and shoulders sagging from fatigue after a long day.

_Where is everyone?_

Sansa couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or relieved when she didn’t see a certain tall frame in the room as she made her way to Arya and Pod sitting at a table, Pod laughing while Arya read from a magazine in a snooty accent. 

“When we visited him on location, Baratheon invited us inside his recently renovated double-decker bus, a modern beauty he affectionately named _‘Widow’s Wail’_. When we asked him why he had a rather morbid moniker for such a _lovely_ space, he was all too happy to tell us. _“The women who visit me enjoy themselves so much that any men they had been with previously are dead to them - only Widow’s leave my side.”_ He said proudly.” 

Arya rolled her eyes, gagging. “What a fuckface.” 

Sansa wrinkled her nose, gesturing to the magazine. “What are you even reading?” 

Arya grinned, holding it up so she could see the cover. “Wankers Weekly.”

“Nice tits.” 

Sansa started, her stomach tightening from Sandor’s deep voice coming from behind her. She turned as he walked into the room, his head ducking under the doorframe.

“Hey! Don’t talk about my sister’s tits!” Arya glared at him, her mouth in a deep frown.

_Oh gods, Arya._

Sandor huffed, rolling his eyes as he moved around Sansa, his eyes barely grazing hers as he headed for the buffet. “I was being fucking sarcastic. Those aren’t hers.” 

Arya scoffed, standing up from the table, following him. “Of course they are! They’re on her _body,_ aren’t they?!”

“Arya..” Sansa’s face bloomed red as she followed her sister, her voice quiet. “He’s right - my dress for that shoot went up to my neck. They.. it’s edited.” 

Arya grimaced at the magazine she was holding, moving it away from her body dramatically between two fingers. She scowled, walking purposefully over to a trash can next to the wall and throwing it in. “What the _hell?_ Whatever happened to responsible fucking _journalism?!”_

Sandor smirked, grabbing a plate from the stack, his eyes focused on the buffet, his tone casual. “The real ones have freckles.”

Sansa’s stomach swooped at his comment, feeling oddly flattered that he would notice enough to memorize that fact. She looked up at him briefly but he was still focused on the food spread out under the heating lamps. 

_“Hey!_ What did I _say?!”_ Arya turned to him quickly, moving to block him from progressing down the buffet. 

Sandor rolled his eyes, looking down at Arya, her head barely even coming up to his chest. “Most of my job is just staring at her fucking tits.” 

Sansa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

_Oh. Right. Our jobs._

Arya poked him in the stomach, her face hard, unafraid, making Sandor blink at her. “You _listen here_ you fuck-”

 _“Arya!”_ Sansa hissed, stepping close to her sister, tugging on her sleeve. “Can you .. _stop_ verbally assaulting my coworkers? You’re making this into a huge, weird thing!” 

Arya scoffed, her eyes flicking down to Sandor’s crotch. “Oh, I _bet_ it’s a huge weird thing. And you don’t see men having it edited to their bodies to sell fucking magazines! It’s completely _sexist!”_ She looked over at Sansa, pointing at her boobs, her voice nearly shrill. “And he _shouldn’t be talking about them!”_

_I want to disappear into the floor._

“Here, Mr. Clegane.” Pod came from the other end of the buffet, handing Sandor a full plate of food, his smile warm as he took the empty plate from Sandor’s other hand. “I put an extra serving of chicken as well as steak, just how you like it.” 

“No!” Arya yanked on the plate, Sandor frowning, his hand holding onto the plate as Arya fought to get it from his grip. “No! He doesn’t get food until he apologizes for _tit-gazing!”_

_Oh. My. Gods._

Sandor sighed, looking over at Sansa, his eyebrow raised. She winced, uncomfortable, her face on fire, completely at a loss as she watched her sister struggle, using both of her hands to try and get Sandor to let go of his plate.

He rolled his eyes, scratching his eyebrow with his free hand as he looked down at Arya. “Will you let me eat my fucking food if I promise to have my dick out if I’m ever on the cover of a magazine?”

Sansa let out a shocked laugh as she watched Arya stop fighting him, her eyes wide, looking up at Sandor. “Fuck yes!” She let go of the plate and Sandor nodded once, walking away to find a seat.

“Great. Now fuck off.” 

Arya laughed, following behind him, her steps quick to keep up. “I’m fucking serious! You have to keep that promise now!” 

Sandor shrugged, setting his plate down on a table, his leg swinging over the bench as he sat down. “I’m never gonna be on the fucking cover of a magazine.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and setting it down on the table where he could see the screen.

Sansa raised an eyebrow curiously, looking down at his phone, not able to see the screen clearly.

Arya grinned, rubbing her hands together. _“Gods,_ I hope to fuck you are one day.” 

Pod stepped forward, his face cheerful. “Do you need anything else, Mr. Clegane? Do you want water or something else to drink?” 

Arya snickered, elbowing him, her voice quiet. _“Kiss ass.”_

Sandor sighed, rolling his eyes as he rested his forearms on the table around his plate. “Will you _fuck off?_ I just want to fucking eat.” 

Pod nodded, clasping his hands behind his back, his stance wide as he stood at the end of the table, watching Sandor. 

Sandor growled, looking up at the ceiling, muttering _for fuck’s sake._ He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. “Go to the fucking store in town.” 

Pod nodded. “Sure, Mr. Clegane. Do you need me to buy something for you? More of that special lotion you like?” 

“No, _shutthefuckup.”_ Sandor’s eyes darted over to Sansa briefly before he looked down at his plate of food, his jaw tight. “Go get me something...yellow. Another thing alive. And something else dairy-free.” 

Pod’s eyebrows furrowed as he shifted his weight. “Sir? You aren’t lactose intolera-“

Sandor growled, looking up at Pod. “You have your fucking list, I need those three things. Now get the fuck out.” 

Pod nodded. “Yes sir, right away, Mr. Clegane.” He walked to the door, Arya following behind him, both of them disappearing around the corner. 

Sansa scoffed, yelling after them. “No thank you, assistant! I don’t need anything, so thoughtful of you to ask!” She rolled her eyes, sighing as she looked down at Sandor, her eyebrow raised.“You know, if you wanted a more obscure list of things, you should’ve sent him to the store for a fat-free avocado. And five-percent milk.”

Sandor frowned, shaking his head. “Those things don’t exi- ah, fuck.” He huffed a laugh, looking down at his plate. “That’s pretty fucking good. I’ll have to remember it for next time.” He gestured with his chin to the buffet behind her as he leaned over, pulling a fork and knife from the cutlery holder in the middle of the table. “You eating?”

“Um..” Sansa turned to look at the food behind her, stalling - she already knew she was hungry. A memory from earlier when she said his name instead of the Hound’s popped into her head and she closed her eyes, willing it away. 

_Stop it. You have to work with him just.. Get over the awkwardness._

She looked back at him, his eyebrow raised in interest, his fork paused in the air. She smiled tightly, exhaling. “Actually, yes, if you could stand the company. Mind if I join you?” 

_There. Professional._

The corner of Sandor’s mouth twitched, as he tilted his head, as if considering. “I thi-“

 _“There_ you are!” Lyanna walked into the dining room, exasperated. “Why are you in here? We’re waiting for you out on set, Clegane!” 

Sandor frowned, gesturing to his plate. “It’s dinner break. I’m eating fucking dinner.”

Lyanna shook her head, looking down at her clipboard. “Take it to go - the sun is setting soon and we still need to finish filming the last scene of the Hound with the men in the yard.” 

Sandor shook his head. “You said the body double could handle it.” 

Lyanna sighed, turning her clipboard around so he could see it, tapping her finger on the crisp papers. “Fresh script. Writers decided they wanted The Hound’s helmet off. I don’t know about you but I _think_ the fans might notice Tormund’s bright-ass hair instead of your brown mop. Now _wrap it up.”_ She twirled her finger in the air before turning around and walking out of the room.

Sandor growled, yelling after her. “I need to go by my trailer first!” 

Lyanna yelled back from the hallway. “You’re burning daylight, Clegane! There’s no time - LET’S GO!”

“Fuck.” Sandor looked down at his phone, Sansa craning her neck slightly to see it too.

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/69/cb/78/69cb787615a9ad535f43659e649e684e.jpg)

_“Fuck!”_ He sighed, picking up his phone and shoving it into his pocket as he stood from the table, pushing his plate in front of Sansa. “Here. If Mormont comes back, tell her I needed to run to my fucking trailer.” 

Sansa shook her head, looking up at him. “No, you need to go on set. Do you need something from your room?” She shrugged a shoulder, faltering slightly. “I mean, I could.. I could go get it for you.”

Sandor raised an eyebrow, bending down to grab a steak from the plate with his fingers before walking towards the door. “Are you my other fucking assistant now?”

Sansa rolled her eyes, grabbing his plate and following behind him out into the hallway. “I’m _trying_ to be a friend. I don’t have anything else to do except go to Wardrobe to get this off.” She gestured down to her costume with her free hand. “I can help you.” 

Sandor sighed, turning around to face her, his eyes narrowing. “A friend?”

Sansa shrugged, her cheeks blushing. “Well, I mean, at least _friendly._ Helpful.” 

A production assistant came up to them, a radio in his hand. “Mormont is screaming for you on the radio, Clegane.” 

_“Fuck.”_ He looked over at Sansa, his eyes watching hers for a moment before he sighed, looking resigned. “Fine. I have an extra heater in my room. It needs to be reset.”

Sansa looked at him, confused and he huffed, turning to walk down the hall, his free hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys. “Stranger can’t get cold so I use an extra heater to make sure he’s warm. The fucking bullshit space heater they gave us only works on a timer. It’s gonna turn off soon.” 

“Oh.” Sansa smiled, following beside him. “Ok, so.. just turn the heater on?”

“Yes.” He singled a key out on his keyring and handed it to her. “When you go in, don’t fucking look at him, don’t seem excited, don’t smile.” 

Sansa’s eyes went wide as she took the keys from him gingerly. “Uhh.. am I in danger here?”

Sandor scoffed, looking over at her. “It’s not for you, it’s for him. He doesn’t like people in general, and he fucking _hates_ happy people. Like Payne.” He stopped in the hallway at the large door leading to Wardrobe. “He can’t fly so he won’t try to come at you or anything, just.. go in, turn the heater on. You can set out some of his food if you want but he’ll be fine until I finish on set.” He took a step backwards down the hallway, still facing her. “I’ll just get my keys from you later.” 

“Ok, I‘ll handle it.” She nodded, holding up the keys. “Oh, here.” She walked forward, pushing his plate into his hands, grabbing the grilled chicken breast laying across the top for herself. 

He nodded, holding the plate against his chest as looked up at her, hesitating. 

The assistant leaned towards Sandor, holding up the radio. “She’s asking for you, Clegane.”

Sandor nodded at Sansa again before turning, running down the hallway, growling _go the fuck away_ at the assistant, making Sansa smile as she took a bite of the chicken before walking into Wardrobe. 

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e8/bc/4d/e8bc4dfd1d2d756579cdd1714f54f8b3.jpg)

The wind whipped her hair around her face, making her blow a piece of it out of her mouth as she stuck Sandor’s key inside the lock.

_“Fuck me, Daddy!”_

She smiled as she unlocked the door, pushing it open quickly and stepping up into the room. 

She spied him over on a perch connected to his house’s platform and she smiled, closing the door behind her. “Hi, Stranger!” 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/70/1d/99/701d997f6f01efa0552148ac75e40a60.jpg)

The bird froze, his eyes locked on her, his feet shifting nervously on the perch. _“Fuck you, stranger! Fuck you!”_

_Oh, damn. Already messed it up._

She immediately pursed her lips, trying to get rid of the smile on her face. “I mean.. ‘sup. ‘Sup, Stranger.” 

She shrugged a shoulder, relaxing her posture, practically slouching as she took a step into the room to set the keys down on the table. She bent down to slide her boots off, setting them neatly on the mat just inside the door. “Man, I am.. _not_ happy to be here. Really bummed out, in fact. This _sucks.”_

_“Give it to me hard, give it to me hard!”_

Sansa flicked her eyes over to Stranger, holding her body still, her heart pounding. She watched the bird open and close his beak nervously as he watched her, leaning forward, his head low.

“Umm.. your dad. Daddy.” She winced, not sure what to call Sandor. She cleared her throat, looking out the window beside Stranger’s house, spying the castle in the distance. “Um.. _Clegane_ had to work a little late so he asked me to come turn your heater on for you.” Her eyes dropped down to a small heater on the floor under the window, hot air blowing from it steadily, the bright numbers on top showing about ten minutes left before it shut off. 

“So… I’ll just do that. Ok?“ She looked over at Stranger, her eyes going wide with alarm when she couldn’t see him on his perch. 

“Stranger?” 

She stepped closer to his house, relaxing when she spied his little eye peeking out from his circular window. 

_Well… not best friends, then._

She sighed, slightly disappointed as she knelt down, resetting the timer to the longest it would go - seven hours. 

She stood, wiping her palms off on her pants, looking around the space to check that everything was in place. “Alright well, I guess I’ll leave you to it the-” Her eyes widened when she saw a _second_ heater underneath the table, previously hidden from her view. 

_A second heater? Oh, gods. He didn’t mention a second one. Am I supposed to turn that one on, too?_

She frowned, her mind racing as she bit into her bottom lip, unsure. 

_No, if he wanted me to turn on the second one, he would’ve mentioned it._

She nodded to herself, walking over to the door to leave, bending over to put her boots back on, her eyes catching sight of the heater again. 

_But.. maybe he didn’t think of it because it’s just second nature to him. And then I won’t turn it on and he’ll come home to a Stranger popsicle and the poor bird suffers and then Clegane hates me!_

She stood up, one boot in her hand, tension in her shoulders as she blinked, thinking. 

_But then if I do turn it on and I wasn’t supposed to .. Stranger could roast. And then we have bird suffering and anger from Clegane._

She made a frustrated noise, rubbing her hand down her face. 

“Ok!” 

She winced when a muffled _fuck you!_ came from the bird house.

She tried again, her voice softer. _“Ok.”_ She bent down, setting her boot back on the mat gently. “Here’s what we’re gonna do, Stranger. You’re probably not going to like this but I’m just gonna… hang out for a bit, make sure you stay warm enough with the one heater.”

She watched the birdhouse for any signs of life, not hearing anything. “..unless you have any advice for me? Hmm? One heater or two?”

_“Cunt!”_

She sighed, nodding, that response pretty much what she was expecting. She blew the air out of her cheeks, shrugging a shoulder. “Alright well.. he said I could feed you so let’s.. do that.”

She turned around the space, her eyes searching for a bag of bird food. “I.. don’t see any food. Can you point a.. claw in the right general direction for me?”

_“Fuck you, stranger!”_

Sansa nodded, walking over to the panels, pushing in random spots for one that had some give. “Yep, you know, you might want to pick some new material, buddy. It _almost_ doesn’t even hurt my feelings anymore.” 

She held her hair against her chest as she bent down, pressing her fingers against a lower panel, the cabinet opening up a crack. “A-ha!” She swung it open, humming curiously when she saw a black mini fridge inside. 

_Maybe he feeds him fruit? Parrots eat fruit, right?_

She hesitated slightly before opening the door and taking survey of the contents. 

_Greek yogurt, all mango flavor, interesting. Some milk, cheddar cheese cubes, a jar of pickles, edamame hummus - that’s weird, some apples.. Ah!_

She pulled out a plastic container with Stranger’s name written on a piece of tape along the front, popping it open and smiling when she found a rainbow of fruit kebabs inside. She pulled one out, sealing the container and putting it back on the shelf, closing the fridge before standing and walking over to Stranger’s house. 

“Here you go. I don’t know if he usually sets it on your .. porch but I don’t see a bowl anywhere.” She laid the kebab out in front of his door before taking a step back, giving him space. “Sorry if this is informal for you but..you know, _Bon appetite._ ”

Stranger didn’t move from the house, naturally, and she sighed, looking down at the heater on the floor. She narrowed her eyes into a glare at it before walking back to press the panel closed, her hands on her hips as she turned around, not really sure what to do with herself. 

She spied a stack of books on his couch and she smiled, walking over and sitting down. She ran her hand over the rough fabric, imaging him sitting there after a long day, reading a book to wind down, Stranger likely over here keeping him company.

_I wonder if he’s seeing anyone._

She widened her eyes, shaking the thought from her head as she looked beside her at the stack of books. She picked one up, _Legends of Lady Stoneheart,_ and sat back, the book laying across her lap. 

She leaned forward to look over at Stranger’s house, the fruit undisturbed, Stranger nowhere in sight. “Just give me a ‘fuck you, stranger’ if you need something, ok?”

She waited a beat for his response but he stayed silent so she sighed, sitting back, her eyes roaming casually over what she could see of Sandor’s space. 

_Don’t see any pictures of a girlfriend..._

_Stop it!_

She shook her head again, opening the front cover, surprised to find the inside full of panels of drawn pictures. 

“Oh! It’s a .. a comic book.” 

Sansa grinned, folding her feet under her as she settled into the cushion, pushing aside the confusing feelings to read about Lady Stoneheart. 

_\- - -_

“Ms. Stark?” 

Sansa sat up with a jolt, Lady Stoneheart’s book falling from her lap onto the floor. She winced, bending down to pick it up, checking to make sure she didn’t damage it.

“Ms. Stark? Can I.. help you with something?”

She looked up, Pod’s eyebrow raised in polite curiosity as he stood by the table, a brown grocery bag tucked into the crook of one arm, his other hand closing the front door gently behind him. She wiped the drool from the outside of her mouth with her hand. “No, I uh..” She pointed to Stranger’s house, the bird still hidden. “I had to turn the heater on.”

“Ah, the infernal heater.” He nodded, setting the bag on the table, rummaging through it. “I thought Mr. Clegane would be free tonight to set it, otherwise I would’ve taken care of it myself.” He pulled out a tiny pot of daisies, his hand pausing in mid-air as he looked over at her, his brows furrowed. “I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced, Ms. Stark.” 

“No.” Sansa shook her head, clearing her throat as she put the undamaged book back on the stack. “No, not at all.” She stood, wiping her palms down the front of her pants. “Clegane was called back on set for a while so I offered to come check on Stranger. I wasn’t sure if he needed one or two heaters so I decided to stay and make sure he was alright..” 

“Two heaters?” Pod set a pair of fuzzy yellow socks down on the table next to a tub of vegan butter substitute, stepping back to fold the paper bag into a flat, neat rectangle before setting it down on the table as he looked over at her curiously.

Sansa pursed her lips, looking down at the floor to hide her smile at the items spread out on the table. “Yes, uh.. he just said _heater,_ singular, but.. I saw the two in the room and I didn’t want to run the risk of being wrong so..I stayed.” 

“Ah.” Pod nodded, bending over to grab the heater under the table. “This one is broken.” He turned it around, showing her the cord neatly tucked into a little hollow cubby in the back of the heater. 

“Oh.” Sansa’s cheeks pinked as Pod put the heater back down, sliding it under the table with his foot. “So..I guess I didn’t need to stay after all.” 

Pod shook his head, dismissing her with a wave, his voice cheery. “Oh, I bet Stranger loved the company.” He raised his voice slightly, turning to Stranger’s house. “Didn’t you, buddy? Did you like having a friend stay with you?” 

_“Fuck you, cunt! Fuck you hard!”_

Pod sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “He hates me.” He walked over to Stranger’s house, picking up an empty kebab stick from the porch, holding up the juice-stained wood for her to see. “But hey, you got him to eat - that’s more than I can do.” 

Sansa tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling faintly to herself at the infinitesimal achievement as she walked past Pod towards the door. “Well, I guess you can handle it from here.”

Pod smiled, nodding as he moved quickly, opening the door for her and standing out of the way. “I hope you have a good evening, Ms. Stark.” 

Sansa laughed lightly, rolling her eyes as she bent down to put her boots on. “Pod, you know you can call me Sansa, right?” 

Pod nodded. “Sure thing, Ms. Stark.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a gift for you. You know the sex scene script that made an appearance like, chapter two?? Yeah, they film it the next chapter. 😳😳😳😳
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment! They make my day and really help motivate me to keep going with the story! 
> 
> See you in a week! 💛💛💛


	5. You're with me, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE WE BEGIN, LOOK AT THE BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS CHAPTER!!!!
> 
> This fanart was made by the fantastic paperdollgirl and is linked with this story, so please PLEASE click on it and go visit it and tell it hi. IT'S GORGEOUS. I love looking at it, I can't even believe she decided to grace my little story with some art!!!!!! Thank you, paperdollgirl!!!!!
> 
> Ok, here's the chapter - enjoy!!

****

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ac/56/5a/ac565a1ac8a5d6f101745bff920ce112.jpg)

Sansa looked up at Jaq, his back to her as he looked through his palettes spread out on the counter. She scooted down further in her seat, tilting her phone away from him as she scrolled down the screen with her finger. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6a/5a/0d/6a5a0da9de9ab1044f1add9c2c82d78f.jpg)

_Wow, this is.. not helpful._

“This story is fucking terrible.” 

Sansa gasped, pressing her phone against her chest as she looked over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at Sandor. “You can’t just.. That’s so.. _rude!”_

Sandor scoffed, lifting his feet up on the footrest of his chair, rolling his eyes. “You’re reading porn in public and _I’m_ the one who’s fucking rude?” 

_“Shh!”_ She looked over at Jaq, the makeup artist pausing to raise an eyebrow at her. She smiled awkwardly, gesturing between her and Sandor. “Practicing lines.” Jaq hummed knowingly, picking up his brush belt and tying it around his hips. 

“Well, at least finish the fucking scene. Does he get her off?” Sandor reached over, sliding her phone free from her hand, his thumb scrolling up the screen. 

_“Hey!”_ She tried to grab it back but Sandor held it just out of her reach, his eyes locked on her phone. After a moment, his mouth curled up into a smirk before he looked over at her. “Well I’ll never be able to look at fucking cucumber the same way again _.”_

_“Disgusting.”_ She grimaced, standing quickly and yanking her phone back, her cheeks bright red. She turned off the screen before sliding her phone into the pocket of her dress robe and sitting back down in her chair, crossing her arms against her chest, her eyes pointed at the cabinet in front of her.

She could see him in her peripheral - slumped back in his chair, his head tilted against the headrest, his eyes studying the ceiling. “So.”

 _Please,_ **_please_ ** _, talk about literally anything else._

“Just felt like porn at six a.m.?” 

Sansa sighed, rubbing her forehead, her voice low. “Can you please stop saying _porn?_ It’s not.. that.”

Sandor huffed, looking over at her. “Two people fucking, what the fuck else would you call it?” 

_“Research.”_ She hissed the word at him, her eyes flicking back up to Jaq, the makeup artist rubbing a brush against his own cheek and smiling fondly at his reflection. Sansa looked back at Sandor. “I’m just trying to get into the mindset for filming the scene today so.. that’s all it was.” 

Sandor hummed. “Yeah well, I think we can do better than fuckmedaddyhound69.” He shrugged a shoulder, pulling at the crisp paper bib tied around his neck. “It’s not like fucking is hard.” 

Sansa nodded absently, her eyes locked on the floor. 

“Fuck.” Sandor sat forward in his chair, his eyes watching her closely. “You’ve never fucked before?” 

“No, I have.” She cleared her throat, her cheeks pinking. “It’s just.. been a while.” 

_Two years, 5 months, 26 days. But who’s counting?_

Sandor raised an eyebrow at her, looking slightly confused. “Ok?”

She looked away, brushing her finger across the top of her thigh, drawing circles against the fabric. “Well, I’ve just.. never been in love.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I was trying to see an example of characters that actually care about one another..” 

She trailed off, chancing a glance at him, preparing for him to laugh at her. 

Instead he sniffed, nodding once before sitting back in his chair, his brows furrowing as he pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen with his thumb. 

Sansa widened her eyes sarcastically, looking away from him, feeling stupid. _“Wow._ Great. Nice conversation, thank you for that thoughtful response.” She shook her head, crossing her legs, her foot bouncing in the air nervously as she looked towards the empty end of the trailer. 

“Here.” 

She felt his phone bump against her arm and she turned, her brows furrowed. His arm was extended, phone in hand, his face blank as he waited for her to take it. He nodded when she did, slouching down in his chair, intertwining his fingers over his stomach, his eyes closed as he leaned his head back against the headrest. 

She watched him for a moment, blinking twice before looking down at the phone in disbelief, a page of fanfiction stories on the screen.

“Wha-”

“ _Forsaken Feathers’_ is pretty good. Takes them forever to fuck so you’ll have to skip towards the end for the porn but it’s believable. They fuck right away in _Hound Hotel_ but it’s modern, if that matters to you.” 

Sansa stuttered out a small laugh, shaking her head as she looked up at him. “You.. read fanfiction?” 

Sandor shrugged a shoulder, his eyes still closed. “Not really.” 

Sansa looked back down at the phone, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “You have bookmarks.” 

He sniffed, unbothered. “For Research.” 

He stayed silent after that, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his eyes staying closed. She smiled faintly at him before looking down at his phone, her cheeks pinking as she scrolled through the list. “I’m gonna.. are you ok if I text myself the links? I’ll just.. read them later.” 

_\- - -_

Jaq glanced at them through the mirror, the big man’s shoulders shrugging languidly, the girl’s face blossoming like a fair rose as she tapped on the big man’s phone. Jaq scoffed, shaking his head as he looked back at his reflection, one part of his visage for the day complete. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/07/90/dc/0790dc110e251f81de0dffac90337caf.jpg)

_These actors and their feelings. They’re weaving a tangled web that doesn’t need to be so intricate._

Jaq watched them through the mirror while he switched to his other eye, this meager eyeliner easy enough that he could obviously split his attention. The big man had his own phone in his hand again, spinning it between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes focused on the movement. The girl had her hands tucked under her thighs, her lustrous hair flowing over one shoulder like a teeming red waterfall as she avoided his gaze, her beautiful cheekbones dusted with pink as she spoke, her voice nervous. “So um.. How’s Stranger?” 

Jaq rolled his eyes. 

_The dramatics of it all._

He drew a large swoop above his eyelashes while the big man shifted his feet, clearing his throat. “He’s uh.. He’s good. Said _‘bon appetite’_ to me today for the first time, no idea what the fuck that’s about.” 

The girl smiled, a coy little thing that would look better lined in this new lip liner Jaq found at that quaint little shop in town. He sighed, annoyed, ready to work - they had yet to receive their instructions for the day from that tiny hurricane of a producer so he was forced to wait on Osha to go get them.

_Ah, Osha.. a true talent, my one rare diamond in this drab shithole of hack succubi._

The pair of actors shared a laugh behind him and Jaq frowned. 

_Drat. I missed something._

The big man gestured his sculpted chin at Jaq and Jaq raised an eyebrow as the big man spoke. “Yeah, I uh, I ended up giving that to him.” 

Jaq frowned, thinking. 

_Big man didn’t give anything to me - nothing that I wouldn’t accept freely, of course. Ugh, I would have quite the soiree on that colossal playground of a man, those scars only add a level of intri- oh. He means the butter._

Jaq looked down at the mini-fridge in the trailer, a new tub of his favorite brand of vegan butter tucked safely inside. He shrugged a shoulder gracefully. 

_Well. Maybe the big man isn’t so bad. Certainly not the talentless drudge I thought in the beginning all those years ago. Honestly, the way he watches the girl is melancholy in a tragic Targaryen-dynasty sort of wa-_

The door to the trailer whipped open, a flush-faced Osha stepping inside. 

“I’ve got it!” 

She waved her small notebook in the air, her genius but tiny brain unable to contain the simplest of instructions so she insists on writing everything down. 

Jaq crossed his arms against his chest, careful not to wrinkle his blouse as he raised an eyebrow at her. “You mean the tyrants in charge have finally graced us working peasants with our guidelines for the day?”

Osha nodded, the corner of her mouth curling up in an attractive, roguish grin. “Yes, the bastards have made up their mind.” She looked down at her notebook and Jaq simpered at her and her tiny brain. 

“Ok so, for the sex for Sansa, the writers want ‘dewy’, ‘natural’, and ‘virginal’.” She wrinkled her nose, looking up at Jaq. “How are you supposed to show virginity through make up?”

Jaq frowned, turning to the counter and selecting the correct palettes he needed. “I don’t plan on showing any social constructs through my work - my genius knows no such terms.” 

He heard Osha huff a laugh. “Yes, well, for the Hound we have ‘brute’, ‘war hero’, and ‘jackhammer’ so.. no sexual status for him, naturally.” 

Jaq huffed, tucking a brush into his belt before turning to the girl, her chin raising automatically. Her hands were already folded primly in her lap, waiting patiently for him just the way he had painstakingly taught her.

He raised an eyebrow at her, sniffing as he opened his first palette.

_Well. Maybe the girl isn’t so bad either._

_\- - -_

“Yes, right there is perfect. Thank you, boys.” Lyanna nodded at the two set workers as they moved a giant wooden tub full of water into the already cramped space. She waved her hands, dismissing them out of the room once the tub was in place, a grin on her face. “Now go away.” 

She watched them walk down the hallway, waiting until they disappeared around the corner before she turned to address the small group standing in front of her - Gendry on camera, Sam on sound, Osha for make up, Sansa and Sandor as the lone actors. 

“Ok so, it’s the night before battle and Little Bird has come to the Hound’s room for a little _quality time.”_ Lyanna looked down at her clipboard, flipping the page up to scan the one underneath. “Now, notes from the writers are _‘Little Bird is virginal and coy, Hound is-”_ She squinted at the script, her tone unamused. “-‘ a _fumbling idiot with no clue what to do.’”_

Sandor scoffed as Sansa stepped forward to look at Lyanna’s clipboard. “What? My script doesn’t say that.” 

“New version, fresh off the press.” 

Everyone turned to look at Petyr as he walked up to the group, one hand in his pocket, his eyebrow raised pompously. 

Lyanna sighed, annoyed. “Petyr, what are you doing here? It’s a closed set.” She gestured her clipboard to the small group. “Sensitive scenes today so only the bare essentials allowed.”

Petyr scoffed, his hand on his chest. “Suddenly writers aren’t so essential?” 

Lyanna rolled her eyes, walking forward, blocking him from coming further down the hall. “Funny, you haven’t been present for _any_ other scenes and yet here you are - so _supportive_ when the main female star just happens to get naked.” 

Sansa’s stomach rolled, her heart rate spiking as she held the top of Little Bird’s robe shut with her hand, her knuckles white. 

Petyr laughed humorlessly. “Well I’ll be happy to leave if the _director_ has a problem with it.” He looked around theatrically. “Is he here, by chance? I’d love to speak with him.” 

Lyanna narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenched tight. 

Petyr nodded, satisfied. “Then I guess I stay.” 

Sandor stepped forward, scowling at Petyr before looking at Lyanna, his voice quiet. “Just get the fucking director here.” 

Petyr smiled maliciously, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Lyanna, just get _him_ here.” 

Lyanna growled, pulling Sandor’s sleeve, both of them moving away from Petyr. She motioned for everyone to move into a tight huddle in front of the room and Petyr barked a laugh, shaking his head, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he watched the group gather. 

Lyanna ignored him, her face hard as she scratched behind her ear. She dropped her hand, eyeing each of them for a moment before letting out a sigh, her chin raising slightly, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m the director.” 

The group all exchanged silent, confused glances as Lyanna continued. “The network wouldn’t sign on a female director.” Sansa’s nose wrinkled as Osha scoffed, rolling her eyes, Lyanna nodding in agreement. “I used my grandfather’s initials - GRRM, Gareth Robard Roderick Mormont. I told the network I was working for his company and showed them some of _my_ past work and said it was his. I...make up bullshit director’s notes from ‘him’ but then just direct how I want.” She looked over at Petyr, scowling. “I guess the fucking rat figured out my secret.”

Gendry pointed at the floor, his face set in a deep frown, his voice a quiet hiss. “This is _fucked_ up! What would even happen if he told the network? They wouldn’t shut down their most successful show over some sexist bullshit!”

Lyanna shrugged, crossing her arms, her clipboard wedged against her chest. “I don’t think the network would drop us at this point, no, but...I _did_ lie. If they find out the truth, it could piss them off. Bottom line is it’s a risk. A big one. And not just for us, for everyone working on the show - they’d all be out of work.” 

Sandor frowned, his voice hard. “So we can’t do shit about him watching?” 

Lyanna shook her head, her lips pursed tightly as she blinked at the floor. 

Sansa glanced up at Sandor standing next to her, his jaw clenching as he glared at Petyr standing in the hall. Petyr winked, giving Sandor a small wave, making the bigger man’s hands ball up into fists at his side.

Sansa reached out, her fingers brushing against the inside of his wrist and he looked down at her, his brows still furrowed in anger. 

“You’re with me, right?” 

His brows pinched together more, likely confused but after a moment, he nodded. 

Sansa nodded back, inhaling deeply through her nose as she faced the small group again. “Then it’s fine.” 

Lyanna shook her head, stepping forward slightly. “Sansa..” 

Sansa let out a humorless laugh, shrugging a shoulder. “Well, ok, it’s not _fine_. But.. I trust this group.” She looked up at Gendry, Sam, Osha and Lyanna, her gaze coming to Sandor last, his eyes already on hers. 

She gave him a small reassuring smile, barely more than a slight upturn of the corner of her mouth and he looked away, his nostrils flaring as he moved his hands to his hips, exhaling sharply. 

_\- - -_

Sandor’s teeth were pressing tightly together as he tried to control his anger, his blood pumping as he stared at the floor. 

_Fucking cunt bag, taking fucking advantage of fucking -_

Sansa’s voice cut through his inner monologue, Sandor just catching the end of what she was saying. 

“-we can’t let that happen. Guys like him just want the power. I mean.. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that my boobs are gonna be on tv.. He would just see them anyway when the episode airs, right?” 

She was looking at Mormont, one hand still holding the top of her robe shut, betraying the confidence she was trying to project through her words. 

Mormont shook her head, looking down at the clipboard in her hands, unconvinced. “It’s more about the principle..”

Sansa scoffed. “Screw the principle! We’re all professionals here! Let’s just do our jobs!” She looked around at the small group, Waters the first to nod as he picked his camera up from the floor. He carried it over towards the production table set up in the hallway as Tarly smiled at Sansa, giving her a reassuring nod before following Waters. 

Osha was next, clapping Sansa on the shoulder, giving her a lopsided smile. “Come see me when you’re finished convincing the boss.” She jutted her chin out towards Mormont before giving Sansa a friendly wink. “We’ll brush up the ladies, make them look fucking fantastic for their big debut.” 

Sansa let out a surprised laugh, the tension easing slightly as Osha walked away, leaving only Lyanna and Sandor behind.

Sandor watched as Lyanna stepped forward, her eyes locked onto Sansa’s. “The minute, I mean the _minute_ you feel uncomfortable, we pull the plug. We’ll .. we’ll figure something else out. Ok?” 

Sansa smiled softly, nodding, her hand tightening on the Queen’s robe as Lyanna gave her a final stiff nod before walking away. 

_Oh, fuck._

Sansa turned to Sandor, exhaling shakily, her mouth opening to say something. 

“No.” Sandor shook his head, his voice a low growl from the back of his throat as he looked away from her. 

Sansa let out a huff of amusement, reaching up to squeeze his forearm. He hadn’t even realized he had crossed his arms against his chest. “Clegane, I don’t actually need your permission. And you already said you were with me.” 

_Fuck that._

_“No._ Not like this.” 

Sansa shook her head, pulling at his sleeve with her free hand until he let his arms drop to his side, his eyes moving to a spot on the wall behind her head. “You know, your nipples are going to be out too. Do you see me making a big deal about them?” 

Sandor frowned, looking down at her. “That’s fucking different.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curved up into a soft smile. “Why? Because I’m a helpless damsel in distress? I need you to protect my poor feminine nipples?” 

Sandor growled. “You’re not fucking helpless.” 

Sansa smirked at him. “No, I’m not.” 

He sighed roughly, his shoulders relaxing as he dropped his eyes down to her hand still holding the top of her robe shut. “I fucking hate this.” 

Sansa nodded sympathetically, letting out a dramatic groan. “Oh I _know,_ a morning spent having fake sex with me is just _awful,_ your life really is _hard.”_

Sandor’s brows furrowed, the ball in his stomach tightening further although he couldn’t pinpoint the reason. “Stark..” 

Sansa cut him off, her voice soft. “I know. It’s gross and twisted and he’s a fucking pervert, but..” She trailed off, looking up at him, shrugging a shoulder. “That’s the job I signed up for. And I want to do the show justice. The characters.. they deserve this.” She sniffed, the serious tone gone from her voice as she looked over at Osha, wiping at the corner of her eye before she continued. “And I guess in order to put my best boob forward, I need to go get the girls spruced up.” She gave him a watery smile before nodding once, her shoulders straightening as she turned from him, Sandor’s eyes hard as he watched her walk away. 

_Fucking hell._

He looked over at Littlefucker, scowling when he saw the slimy bastard eyeing Sansa’s ass as she talked to Osha, both of them nodding before they walked into a spare empty room across the hall, Osha shutting the door behind them.

Sandor frowned as he walked over to Waters and Tarly, both men suiting up with their equipment to begin filming. “Just.. fucking block him. Get in his way as much as you fucking can until she’s hidden in the water.” 

Tarly nodded, his eyebrows furrowing. “Of course, Sandor. We’ll do anything we can to help, right?” 

Waters nodded, his face hard as he looked over at Littlefucker, the cunt holding a finger up in the air to get their attention. 

“Oh, boys.” Littlefucker called out to them. “Don’t forget to start the fire.” He pointed to the dark fireplace in the room, his eyes gleaming as he grinned at Sandor. “Wouldn’t want our Queen getting cold, now would we?” He moved his hands to his chest, his pointer fingers poking out next to his nipples.

 _Fucking_ **_asshole._ **

Sandor turned to the room, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared at the fireplace. 

Tarly walked up beside him, his voice low. “Sandor, I can do it.” 

Sandor shook his head, his shoulders rigid, spine tight.

 _Fucking fire all the damn time, why didn’t you think this through when you agreed to be on a fucking_ ** _Medieval_** _show you fucking idiot._

He looked over as Sansa came out of the room, the anger in his chest easing slightly when she smiled at something Osha said. 

_At least she’ll be fucking warm._

He growled, grabbing a box of matches from the production table, his steps heavy as he moved into the room quickly. 

“Want me to do that, Clegane?” Littlefucker cackled behind him. 

_Shove this box up your fucking ass you fucking cunt fucker-_

He knelt down, pointedly ignoring the sweat on his palms as he opened the box, grabbing a match from inside, his hands shaking enough that he dropped it on the floor. 

_Seven fucking sake, get a fucking hold of yourself._

He grit his teeth, bending to pick up the match, his eyes blinking as he stared at the coarse striking surface on the side of the box.

He closed his eyes, exhaling roughly through his nose as he tapped his thumb on the matchstick, wanting to snap it in half and run away to his trailer. 

“Here.” 

He jolted when he felt her hand on his shoulder, opening his eyes to look up at her. He frowned, pointing his chin at the empty fireplace. “I.. it’s cold in here.” 

Sansa smiled, nodding, holding her hand out for the match. “I want to do it, if you don’t mind. I like doing it.” 

Sandor scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

_Fucking transparent._

“For a _classically_ trained actress, you’re a shit liar.” 

Sansa grinned, wiggling her fingers, her hand still outstretched in front of him.

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he put the match in her hand, standing up out of her way. She grabbed the box from his other hand, sliding it shut while she traded places with him, Sandor closing his eyes as she struck the match against the box.

_Fucking coward._

“I actually do like doing it.” He opened his eyes, the fire in the grate giving the room a small glow as she held up the burnt match, smoke wafting from the end. “When you blow it out, it smells like Birthday. It’s one of my favorite smells.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Birthday?” 

She nodded, eyeing the tub beside the fireplace. “Would you mind moving this a bit farther that way?” She motioned down to the end of the bed, away from the small flame.

_For fuck’s sake._

Sandor sighed, his hands going to his hips. “You’re being so fucking obvious, I don’t need you to protect me. I’ll be fine.” 

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him. “Ok, Narcissist. Did you learn that at Cersei’s finishing school? I just don’t want to burn my helpless feminine nipples off. Nothing to do with you.” She raised her chin into the air primly, walking out of the room, making Sandor scoff as he shook his head. 

He exhaled sharply, looking down at the tub, his eyes flicking over to the fire that was growing larger, unease settling in his stomach. 

_That actually is kinda fucking close, I should do it. For the nipples._

He bent over, grabbing the rope handle and dragging the tub down towards the entrance of the room. 

_“Clegane! Stop moving the furniture, you’re the_ **_talent_ ** _!”_

_\- - -_

He sat in the heated tub, his arms resting on the sides as Mormont spoke to Sansa in a low voice by the doorway, both women nodding before Mormont moved out into the hallway. Waters stepped into the room, Tarly behind him, both men blocking the doorway, making Sandor nod with approval. 

Sansa smiled at them both as she moved over to the bed, standing on her beginning mark for the scene. 

“Uh, gentlemen.” 

_Fucking fuckface fucker-_

Both Waters and Tarly moved away from the door, Littlefucker coming into the room, Mormont’s clipboard in his hand. 

_You can’t touch her_ ** _clipboard_** _you fucking assfaced cunt-_

Littlefucker waved the clipboard in the air. “I believe the script says the establishing shot starts under the window, zoomed in on the glass then a pan down the bed, ending on a zoom out on our Queen here.” He raised an eyebrow at Waters. “How are you going to get that shot by guarding the doorway?” 

Waters shrugged, his feet moving into a wide stance. “My zoom works from here just fine.” 

Littlefucker hummed, rubbing his chin. “Yes, I see. Well.” He looked down at the clipboard in his hand, his eyes scanning the top page. “If you aren’t going to do what’s best for the artistic _integrity_ of the show, I can release you from duty.” He turned to Mormont, tilting his head curiously. “I think Trant will do, can you radio for him please?” 

“No!” 

“No!” 

_“Fuck_ no!”

Waters, Sansa, and Sandor all called out, the cameraman stepping forward. “I’ll move.” 

Littlefucker nodded, grinning as he watched Waters walk further into the room behind the tub, turning to face Sansa. He frowned, shrugging a shoulder, his face disappointed. 

“No, it’s ok, Gendry.” Sansa turned to Littlefucker, her eyes narrowing into a vicious glare. 

The cunt pursed his lips, stepping closer to her, Sandor’s hands tightening on the sides of the tub as he watched Sansa’s face closely. “Did you have something you wanted to say, Ms. Stark? If you’re unhappy working here..we can quickly solve that for you.” 

Sansa sniffed, her shoulders straightening, voice overly bright. “Not at all, Petyr.” She smiled at him, her chin rising as she bared her teeth. “I’m very much looking forward to having Clegane touch my body. It should be quite an experience - have you seen the size of his hands?” She looked down at Petyr’s hands, making a small disappointed noise, the corner of her mouth curving down into a frown. 

Sandor huffed a laugh, leaning back against the tub, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

_Fucking brutal, Red Wolf._

Littlefucker smiled tightly, tucking his free hand into his pocket, his eyes hard as he looked leisurely down her body. “I look forward to the show, Ms. Stark.” 

Sansa hummed, her smile saracstic as he turned to walk back to stand in the doorway, her eyes rolling as soon as his back was turned. She moved to face the bed, shaking her hands out in front of her, blowing the air out of her cheeks. 

Mormont’s voice rang out from the hall, watching from her monitor setup. “Whenever you’re ready, Sansa, go ahead.” 

Sansa nodded, her head tilting up to the ceiling as she took in a deep breath, her shoulders straightening into The Queen’s posture. She nodded to Waters, the cameraman starting the shot on the window, panning down the bed, ending on her. She waited a beat before turning to Sandor, a small smile on her face as she moved towards the tub, her hand moving to the tie on her robe. 

“Well, Hound. Finally alone.” 

Sandor clenched his jaw, his eyes following her hand as she untied her robe before he looked up at the ceiling, averting his eyes. 

_This is fucking bullshit, she shouldn’t have to fucking do this with him watching._

“Sorry, Lyanna, can we just have a moment?” 

Sandor frowned, looking down at Sansa, her robe tied shut again, her body facing the hallway as she waited for a response. 

“Yeah, Sansa, of course.” 

Waters and Tarly nodded to Sandor and Sansa as they walked towards the door, both of them staring at Petyr until the writer rolled his eyes before all three exited, leaving the actors alone. 

Sandor sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, exhaling heavily as he leaned back in the tub, the water sloshing around him slightly. 

“Are you ok?”

Sandor huffed a laugh, dropping his hands. “You’re asking _me_ if I’m fucking ok? You’re the one who’s fucking naked!” He gestured down to the flesh colored bathing suit he was wearing. “I’m the cunt sitting in the fucking tub just watching you!”

Sansa sighed, kneeling beside the tub, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m not _totally_ naked. Can’t forget the fetching nude thong.” Sandor scoffed, making her smile. “And it’s not me - it’s Little Bird.”

Sandor rolled his eyes, looking away from her until she put her hand on his forearm. “Clegane.” She leaned towards him, her voice quiet. “The only way I’m gonna make it through this with that pervert watching is if it’s _Little Bird.”_

_Right. The Queen and her fucking Hound._

She raised her eyebrow at him and he sighed, his eyes scanning her face before he looked down at the water and nodded once, not happy. 

She smiled, rubbing her hand across his forearm before standing, turning to the doorway. “Ok, we’re ready!” 

The men came back into the room, Waters moving over behind the tub, under the window while Tarly stood just inside the doorway holding the boom mic overhead. Sandor could see Littlefucker’s shoes behind Tarly’s and he scowled, his jaw clenched tight. 

_Fucking voyeur cunt bag._

Mormont’s voice cut in from the hallway. “Ok, Sansa, whenever you’re ready, go ahead.”

Sansa looked over at Sandor, raising an eyebrow expectantly. His scowl grew deeper, the anger sitting in his chest making it fucking impossible for him to concentrate. She narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth set in a thin line and he sighed, closing his eyes, _trying._

_The Hound. Finally getting to fuck his woman. Great._

Sandor opened his eyes, his face blank as he watched Little Bird walk towards the tub, her hand reaching for the tie on her robe. “Well, Hound. Finally alone.” 

Sandor nodded, reciting the Hound’s lines for him. “Aye. I didn’t think you would come.” 

Little Bird smiled, untying her robe, Sandor’s eyes focused on hers as the fabric opened up, a sliver of skin showing down the front of her body. He blinked once, his eyes not moving from hers as she swallowed, her voice faltering as she glanced at the doorway. “I uh..” 

Sansa’s hand shook as she began to push the fabric towards shoulder slowly, her smile tight, fake. 

_You’re with me, right?_

Her voice repeated in his head.

_Fuck this._

Sandor leaned forward quickly, his hand grabbing the edges of her robe, closing the fabric tightly together in his fist as he pulled her towards him, yanking her into the water. She made a small noise of surprise, her hands catching herself on his chest as her body inelegantly sprawled out on top of his in the tub. 

\- - -

“What _the fuck_ are you _doing?”_ Petyr’s voice snaked into the room and Sansa sat up clumsily in the water, her thighs on either side of Sandor’s as her hand reflexively went up towards the top of her robe, making sure it was shut. 

She felt Sandor’s hand still holding the fabric closed and the weight of tension in her stomach released when she realized she was covered from Petyr’s gaze. She looked up at Sandor with wide eyes, still shocked at how.. _solidly_ he had broken script.

Sandor didn’t notice her watching him - he was scowling at Petyr, his eyebrows furrowed in anger, his jaw tight. 

_Well. He’s with me, alright._

The corner of her mouth twitched as she tapped his hand lightly, signaling for him to let go so she could stand up.

“Oh, fuck.” His hand released the fabric quickly, his eyes wide as he looked at her. “I, uh..” He cleared his throat, regret flashing over his face as he looked down at her costume, the majority of the Queen’s robe submerged under the water. “Fuck.” 

Sansa smiled, bracing herself on his shoulders as she stood up, the water sloshing noisily, dripping back into the tub from the heavy, drenched fabric. “No, it’s ok. I actua-”

“Does anyone want to tell me what the _fuck is happening?!”_ Petyr’s voice was irate, making Sansa’s smile fall in annoyance. Sandor rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he braced his hands on the edge of the tub, taking his time standing up, the water sloshing noisily with his movements. 

Sansa turned to face Petyr, his eyes locked angrily on Sandor behind her. He raised his eyebrow expectantly, waiting for an explanation. 

\- - -

Sandor rolled his eyes, reaching down to wring out the legs of his bathing suit as he spoke. “The Queen comes to the Hound’s room and he just sits in a fucking tub? No. He wouldn’t fucking wait for her to undress slowly.” 

Littlefucker gaped at him, holding up Mormont’s clipboard, tapping the papers aggressively with his finger. “It says he does _in the script.”_

_I’ll gladly shove that fucking script down your fucking throat you piece of shit._

Sandor exhaled sharply, stepping out of the tub, water dripping onto the floor, Littlefucker stepping back from the small puddle forming on the ground. “The Hound is a virgin, right?”

Littlefucker smirked, raising an eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, he is. Look at him, hardly believable that a woman would want to sleep with a face like that.” 

“Hey!” Sansa sloshed in the tub behind him, her mouth set in a frown as she made to step out of the water. 

Sandor shook his head, holding his hand out to stop her. “He’s not gonna fucking wait patiently. He’s a virgin, she’s the fucking woman of his dreams and he thinks he’s going to die in the battle tomorrow.” He looked over at Mormont, who was watching everything unfold from the doorway. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

Mormont nodded, coming into the room, looking over at Littlefucker. “No, it really doesn’t.”

Littlefucker scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on, this is just a -”

 _“No,_ Petyr.” Mormont raised an eyebrow. “Look outside your _personal_ goals here and think about the story - It _doesn’t make sense.”_ She cocked her head to the side, her hands on her hips as she stepped towards him. “We can get Varys in here for a consult if you really want to argue.”

 _“Enough.”_ Littlefucker clenched his jaw tightly, his nostrils flaring as he looked down at the clipboard in his hand, his eyes studying the script. After a moment he exhaled, his face tight as he looked at Mormont, his words clipped. “Fine. He wouldn’t wait.” 

Mormont smiled victoriously, regarding Littlefucker a moment before reaching forward and yanking her clipboard from his hands. Littlefucker stepped forward, his eyes dark as he sneered at Mormont. “Don’t get cocky, Lyanna. What will the network have to say, I wonder?” 

The small crew moved in as one but Sandor was quickest, water trailing on the floor behind him as he towered over Littlefucker, not touching him but close enough to make Littlefucker involuntarily take a step backwards. 

He scoffed, looking up at Sandor in disbelief. “What, Clegane, are you going to hit me? I’m pretty sure that would break your contra-”

His sentence cut off as Sandor shoved him against the wall with a quick movement, Littlefucker’s mouth dropping open in shock. “I’ll _sue_ you for that!” 

“Oops, slippery fucking floor. Here, let me help you.” He grabbed Littlefucker’s shirt, fisting it tightly as he pulled the smaller man towards him, his teeth bared, his voice quiet. “Don’t pull a fucking bullshit stunt like this again.” 

Littlefucker swallowed thickly, his chin rising in the air. “Know your _place,_ Clegane. I have the power to make your life very.. _uncomfortable.”_

Sandor shrugged a shoulder, unbothered. 

_Fuck you, Littlefucker._

Sandor let him go with a final growl and Littlefucker sneered at him, brushing his hand across his now-wrinkled shirt. “You’ll pay for that, Clegane.” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, shifting his weight silently, his blood pumping loudly in his ears as he stared him down, his jaw clenched tight. Littlefucker glared at him, huffing a final time before he left the room, his prissy boots clacking on the stones as he walked down the hallway away from set. 

Mormont turned to the crew, her smile wide as she tapped her clipboard lightly. “Well.. alright gang, let’s reset.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know!! I am SO rude to split it up like that!!! This baby is 6k words, and the next part is almost as long. For this one, with Jaq in the beginning plus setting up and then stupid Petyr... it was too much!!! 
> 
> But I'll tell you what, if enough people yell at me I'll post the next chapter early. 
> 
> Also, as a side note - GoT had 19 directors during their show run and ONE was a woman. GROSS.


	6. I don't like touching you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheesh, you guys are an angry bunch! Enough people yelled at me so here, take it! 
> 
> It's a wee bit short but uhhh.. I think you'll be happy.. 
> 
> Alright! Petyr is gone, shake off his grossness andddd... 
> 
> ACTION!

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/bf/d2/af/bfd2af8e06bd2d4189940c4e125876bd.jpg)

“Well, Hound. Finally alone.” Little Bird smiled coyly, her finger running down the front of her robe, barely separating the fabric to reveal a small strip of skin between her breasts as she stepped closer to him.

“Aye.” The Hound’s eyes were on hers, his body reclined in the water, his arms up on the edge of the tub. “Didn’t think you’d actually come.”

The Queen tilted her head to the side, considering him. “Well, I thou- _ oh!” _

She was cut off as The Hound reached forward quickly, yanking her towards him, Sansa able to move smoothly into the water since she was expecting it this time. The Queen settled her body over his, straddling him as she laughed lightly at his eagerness, her hands resting on his shoulders casually. Her smile faded, her tone turning serious as she looked down at his chest, moving to trace a deep mottled scar that ran across his collar bone. “Are..you sure about this? I don’t want you to have any regrets come morning.” 

The Hound leaned closer to her, his head tilted to the side, his eyes watching her face as he ran his fingertips up her spine, the robe covering her back now soaked. “The only regret I’ll have is how much fucking time we wasted.” 

The Queen hummed, nodding her agreement, her hand gliding across the wet skin on his chest. 

_ I wonder what his workout regime is. He has to work out pretty constantly to keep this shape, huh?  _

_ Focus, Sansa! Be professional! _

The Hound’s hands went still on her, his voice concerned, The Hound’s words in line with the script. “Are you regretting coming here?” 

The Queen shook her head immediately, looking back up at him. “No.” She smiled, moving her hand up to palm his cheek gently. “No, no matter what happens tomorrow.. I can’t face it until I know what it feels like to have your hands on my skin. For you to have me completely.”

The Hound blinked at her, his throat bobbing as his hand came around to her front slowly, his thumb dipping just under the edge of her robe. The Queen tilted her head to the side, giving him silent permission to slide the fabric off of her shoulder. 

Sansa waited two, three beats before her brows furrowed, watching Sandor frozen in place, not continuing the script, his eyes locked on where his hand had a hold on her robe. 

_ “CUT!”  _

_ \- - - _

_ Fuck. _

Sandor dropped his hand from Sansa’s robe, his head tilting back as he blew the air out of his cheeks, his body going slack in the tub. “I fucked it up.” 

“It’s fine, Clegane.” Sansa smiled as she rose up on her knees to get her body weight off of him, her hands moving to the edge of the tub for balance, oblivious to his untimely moral dilemma. 

_ No, this is not fucking  _ **_fine._ **

He reached down into the water, his hand adjusting the thick fabric laying across his lap meant to keep him and Sansa apart during the scene. Mormont stepped into the room, her brows furrowed in curiosity at him. “What happened, Clegane?” 

Sandor shook his head, blowing the air out of his cheeks as he looked down, making sure his hard on was hidden beneath the fabric. “I.. fuck, I don’t know. I just froze.” 

_ I’m an opportunistic cunt is what happened. _

Mormont hummed, nodding her understanding. “Well, let me see what we can keep from that last scene - wardrobe only has one more dry robe for us to use so it would be fucking golden if we can just move forward with you guys in the water. Give me a minute.” She turned quickly, walking out of the room to go view the monitors in the hall. 

_ Great. We got rid of one fucking pervert only for me to fucking start groping her and undressing her like a fucking lech- _

“Hey. What’s up with you?” Sansa rested her hand on his shoulder, still holding herself up on her knees, her legs on either side of his. He squeezed his legs together, trying to get as little contact with her bare skin as possible. 

She laughed lightly, looking down through the water at their legs. “What, I have cooties now? Want me to get off of you?”

She made to stand up and he shook his head, wincing. “No, fuck, you’re.. It’s fine. Just..it’s fine.” 

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him in assessment, her hand squeezing his shoulder slightly. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing.” Sandor answered too quickly and he knew it -  _ she  _ knew it too, probably,  _ fuck  _ \- so he shrugged, moving his hands up to the sides of the tub, tapping his palms against the wood in a random beat as he looked at the wall behind her. 

“Uh.. I need some more.. film. I’ll be right back. Right, Sam?” Waters jutted his chin out to Tarly, who nodded, gesturing to his boom mic. 

“Right. I need to .. oil this mic down.” Sam winced at the lie, both men taking their gear outside into the hall quickly, their feet shuffling on the stone floor as they left Sandor and Sansa alone in the room. 

Sandor narrowed his eyes at the doorway. 

_ Fuckers. _

Sansa dropped her body down on Sandor’s legs gently, her weight pressing the pad between them against his dick, his eyes briefly drifting closed at the contact. She tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him, waiting. 

Sandor inhaled deeply, closing his eyes before exhaling roughly, his words a deep rumble from his chest. “I.. don’t like touching you.” 

_ “Wow.”  _

Sandor opened his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he saw her eyes wide with shock, her lips parted in surprise. She lifted herself up on her knees again, her hand moving off of his shoulder as she spoke. “Well...that’s surprising. I was kind of feeling like we were developing some good chemistry here, actually.” 

She made to stand again and he realized what he had said - how it had sounded, so he grabbed the front of her robe to get her to stay where she was so he could explain. “No, wait, fuck.” 

They both looked down at his hand fisting the fabric still wrapped around her body, his grip holding her in place, trapping her in the tub with him - the actions of The Hound and Sandor Clegane blurring in his mind. He let go of the robe quickly, his hand jerking away from her so she was free to move however she wanted.

_ “Fuck _ .”

She watched him curiously as he let out a frustrated groan, his words coming out quickly, trying to explain before she got up and left. “The Hound has to touch the Queen - she fucking _wants_ him to. So I _have_ to touch you but ..we aren’t.. I’m just... a fucking _asshole!_ ” 

He exhaled sharply through his nose as he watched her face, his own expression carefully blank while he waited for her response. She took a second to think it over, her lips pursing in thought. 

“Clegane.. you know you have my permission to touch me, right?” He blinked at her, not saying anything as her body slowly relaxed down onto his again. She shrugged a shoulder, gesturing between them. “I.. I mean, when it comes down to it.. I trust you. You’re being as professional as possible, I can feel that.” 

Sandor looked away from her, a heavy weight of guilt settling in his stomach as his eyes dipped down to the thick fabric covering his dick.

_ Fuck. Professional. That’s the dynamic she wants.  _

Sansa reached up, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Are we ok?” 

Sandor exhaled sharply, nodding as he looked back up at her. “Yeah, we’re good.” 

“Good.” She swept her hand against his chest, brushing away rogue water drops, the sensation of her palm against his bare skin giving him goosebumps. “Who’d have thought, us working well together huh?” She smiled at him, faint dimples appearing in her cheeks, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she swept her gaze over his face. 

A bubble of warmth bloomed in his chest as he nodded vaguely at her, trying to repeat her words to himself - ones of  _ respect  _ and  _ professionalism,  _ but it was useless. 

_ Fuck.  _

_ \- - - _

Lyanna came into the room, a smile on her face as she pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “The take was good! We can start from Sansa’s line, uhh..” She lifted her clipboard, flipping a few pages up, her eyes scanning the words quickly. “..’I can’t face tomorrow until I feel your hands on me, etcetera, etcetera.” She looked up, giving both of them a thumbs up. “We good?”

Sandor and Sansa both nodded, Lyanna leaving the room as Sansa turned to face him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Can you just lead me in with Hound’s line?” 

Sandor nodded tightly before Gendry and Sam came back into the room, Gendry kneeling behind Sandor, Sam standing just inside the doorway, his arms lifting the mic just as Lyanna shouted from the hallway.

“Whenever you’re ready, Sansa!” 

Sansa nodded, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath before opening her eyes again, the Queen sitting in a tub with her lover now. 

The Hound cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed as he leaned back in the tub, his eyes moving to hers. “Do you regret coming here?” 

“No.” She smiled, moving her hand up to palm his cheek gently. “No matter what happens in this battle.. I won’t be able to face it until I know what it feels like to have your hands on my skin. For you to have all of me.”

The Hound blinked at her, his chest rising as he took in a deep breath, his hand lifting up to her shoulder. His eyes were on her robe as he hooked his thumb under the edge of the fabric, his hand pausing, Sandor blinking, frozen. 

The Queen tilted her head to the side, her hand moving to hold his, squeezing it gently. Sandor looked at her, his brows furrowed in question, his jaw clenched tight. 

Sansa smiled, leaning in close to him on his side facing away from the camera, her lips next to his ear, her voice soft. “It’s _ okay,  _ Clegane.” 

She pushed his hand to the side, her robe moving with it, the wet fabric falling slowly off of her shoulder, revealing half of herself to him. Her cheeks pinked as she reached down, taking his free hand and placing it on her other shoulder, encouraging him. 

His eyes burned into hers, his movements slow as he dipped his thumb under the robe, his hand pausing, waiting. Sansa leaned towards him, the water sloshing as she pressed her cheek to his, his rough stubble scratching against her skin when she nodded. 

“Yes.” 

She felt the fabric slide off of her then, her wet skin prickling in the cool air, her nipples pebbling along with it. She shivered slightly, her shoulders curving in as she moved her hands to his shoulders, subtly repositioning herself on the thick pad over his lap to get ready to continue with the scene. 

She felt warm water cascade down her back and she looked up at him, confused, the movement not in the script. His eyes were focused on his hand as he cupped water behind her, lifting it up and pouring it down her back once more before he moved his eyes to hers, the corner of his mouth twitching as he shrugged a shoulder.

She blinked at him, her eyes prickling at the fact that her breasts were on full display but this man was more focused on keeping her warm instead.

She breathed out slowly as she moved her hands down his chest, her fingers gliding over his scars, her eyes dipping down to his mouth for a moment. His eyes widened slightly when she looked back up at him, a kiss not scripted here but Sansa leaning into him anyway, giving him plenty of time to stop her if he didn’t want it. 

She pressed her lips to his gently, a soft gesture of gratitude, something she  _ wanted _ to give him in that moment. He stayed still while she leaned back, his brows furrowed as he watched her, his face hard, unreadable. Sansa smiled nervously, her cheeks warm as she looked down at his chest, feeling exposed in every way. 

She took in a deep breath to say the Queen’s next line when his hand rose out of the tub, unhurried, water droplets falling down from his hand as his thumb guided her chin up until she looked at him. His eyes swept down her face before he leaned in, returning her kiss, Sansa feeling the tension in her shoulders disappear.

She tilted her head, the kiss between them deepening as he leaned back, bringing her with him, her chest pressed up against his tightly. She sighed against his mouth, a smile on her lips as she kissed him, her fingers moving up into his hair at the back of his neck as he slowly dragged his fingertips along the curve of her spine. 

_ “CUT!” _

Gendry stood with a groan beside them, shaking out his legs one at a time. “Fuck, camera work is a young man’s game.” 

Sam laughed from the doorway, lowering the boom mic beside him. “You’re barely over twenty-eight!” 

Sansa crawled off of Sandor, her arm crossing in front of her chest as she turned around, looking for her robe hidden in the water. 

“Here.” 

Sandor held the drenched fabric up for her, his eyes focused on the ceiling. 

“Thank you.” She took it from him, her arms finding the sleeves quickly as Lyanna walked into the room, her eyes on her clipboard. 

She sighed, scratching her head with her pencil before she lowered the script, looking up at the actors. “Well. You skipped like six lines of dialogue there.” Sansa looked over at Sandor, both of them exchanging a look as Lyanna continued. “But, honestly, I don’t give a fuck.”

She pointed her pencil at Sandor, her voice firm. “The way the Hound gave Little Bird all the control, checking that she was comfortable, the  _ affection  _ in his eyes as he made sure she was warm..” She trailed off, scoffing as she shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know where the fuck you got the inspiration from but I loved it. I  _ loved _ it!” 

“Uh..” Sandor shrugged a shoulder, looking over at Sansa quickly before his eyes flicked away from her, making her heartbeat speed up, her cheeks blooming with a happy warmth.

Lyanna nodded, her pencil moving furiously across the papers on her clipboard. “And I love that we saved  _ this  _ moment for their first kiss. It just makes it that much more impactful.” She looked up, grinning at them both. “Good work today guys, I’m calling that scene finished.” 

Sansa looked to Sandor, smiling tentatively as she opened her mouth to speak but Lyanna continued, looking to Sam and Gendry. “I’m gonna have you guys on B team for the rest of the day. The soldiers are already waiting in the yards for those pre-battle promos, I’ll trust you to take care of that.” 

The men both nodded, Gendry giving Lyanna an exaggerated salute as they left the room, Osha passing them in the doorway with two dressing robes in her hands. 

Lyanna looked down at the clipboard. “Sansa, you’ll be with Yara and Jojen in the Queen’s Chambers, Jaqen will meet you there for a touch-up. Sandor, you’re heading with Osha to the make-up trailer to get sprayed with blood and then out to the yards.” 

Osha stepped forward, handing them both their robes, an eyebrow raised at Sandor “You ready?”

“Uhh..” Sandor’s eyes darted over to Sansa’s briefly before he cleared his throat, moving to stand up. “Y-yeah. Fuck yeah.” 

Lyanna kneeled down next to the tub, showing the clipboard to Sansa. “Now, for the chamber scenes, I was thinking we’d start with her morning wake up - I got Hodor already setting up the lights outside the windows - so The Queen’s alone, right, and then..” 

Sansa looked up at Sandor as he stepped out of the tub, his robe wrapped around him, water trailing across the floor as he followed Osha to the door. Her stomach fluttered when he turned, giving her a brief nod before disappearing out into the hallway. 

“Does that sound good?” Lyanna looked at Sansa expectantly, Sansa quickly looking back down at the script and nodding, butterflies causing chaos in her stomach.

“Um.. yes, I think this is good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAH STUPID WORK GETTING IN THE WAY!!!
> 
> Don't worry. I'm not one to torture you guys forever. The next chapter is.. well. Let's just say A CERTAIN SUBJECT COMES UP. 
> 
> (not Clegane's subject. or maybe it is? who knows. Ok bye)
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked it!   
> 💛💛💛💛💛💛


	7. Plumbers and Pipefitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! 
> 
> This is one of my favorite chapters. That's all I need to say.. 
> 
> Enjoy!! 
> 
> 💛💛

Sansa yawned, pulling her robe tightly around herself as she came down the stairs. The morning sun was flooding brightly into her space, the day still early despite her best attempts to sleep in on the one day a week they had off - Sunday. 

She hummed happily, flicking the switch for the coffee pot on before walking over to the table and picking up the newest script production had dropped off late last night, flipping through the pages on her way over to the couch. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f6/cb/f8/f6cbf8af6adcb7210daddb9ec04b13d8.jpg)

She sat down on the couch, her feet curled under her, a faint smile on her face as she scanned through scenes that previously would have made her dread the week ahead - now though, she found the idea of romance between Little Bird and The Hound not so bad. 

She sighed, closing the script abruptly, tapping the cover of it with her fingers as she looked out the window beside her, her eyes turning to the direction she knew his trailer was in the distance. 

_Hmm.. maybe we could review the script together.._

She shook her head at herself as she tossed the script onto the couch before standing and getting her breakfast. 

\- - -

She shut the fridge door, a carton of milk in her hand as she walked over to the bowl of dry cereal she had set out on the counter. She looked briefly over to the script on the couch, pursing her lips as she poured her milk. 

_No, he doesn’t want to practice with you. Just do it like you’ve always done it - no need to change now just because you have a co-worker you might somewhat like._

She huffed, twisting the lid back on the carton and setting it down on the counter harder than necessary, turning her back on the script as she opened a drawer to get a spoon. 

\- - -

“No, because you know why? That’s weird. It would be _weird_ to show up on his doorstep.” She pointed her spoon at the script, her mouth full of cereal as she stood against the counter, her eyes narrowed into a glare as it laid on the couch, mocking her.

She shook her head, looking down at her bowl, stirring the cereal inside. “And on our day off? No. He could be out. Or he could be _in -_ with somebody.” 

She frowned, her spoon pausing in the bowl, a flutter of discomfort rolling in her stomach at the thought. She brushed the idea aside, knowing it was unfair. “He’s a grown man! I wouldn’t be upset if Gendry had a girl over, or Sam, or gods-forbid _Joffrey._ Well, I would be upset with that one but mostly for the girl’s _safety._ So it’s no different with _Clegane!”_

She closed her eyes, her hand tightening on her spoon when she thought of the kiss they had shared yesterday on set. “For _business_ , Sansa! It was a purely professional kiss!” 

She shook her head, bringing the bowl to her mouth and tipping it back to drink the leftover milk inside as she walked over to the sink.

_\- - -_

Sansa sniffed, rubbing her eyebrow with her free hand as she looked down at her phone. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/69/ba/e0/69bae0d7b03f702cf8246407eda9e347.jpg)

She grimaced, erasing the message before it sent, putting her phone face down on the counter once she saw it was completely gone. “Okay, that’s even weirder than showing up at his door. He didn’t even give you his number - technically you texted _yourself._ ” 

She blew the air out of her cheeks, her hands on her hips as she stared down at her phone. 

“Just.. walk away. Walk away.” 

She pointed her nose in the air as she turned to her bathroom to take a shower. 

\- - - 

Sansa leaned against her counter, her hair wrapped up in a towel, still wet from her shower as she stuck her tongue out in concentration. 

“There. It’s casual! Chill. Like I don’t care either way.” She nodded to herself a few times before rolling her eyes with a groan, her finger pressing the backspace button until the message disappeared. 

She laid across the counter, her forehead resting against the cool wood as she felt around for the silverware drawer by her hip, wrenching it open and throwing her phone inside, protecting her from herself. 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/72/fe/24/72fe245b336d9411dae87fd2a286c50c.jpg)

Sansa slid the key out of the lock, blowing her hair out of her face as she turned to walk, stuffing her keys in the bag full of her script and various snacks slung over her shoulder. “Ok, I’m just going to _casually_ pop by. I was just on my way to the castle to study and just so _happened_ to pass by his place. There.” 

She nodded to herself, her eyes focused on her boots sinking into the snow, her breath coming out in visible puffs as she walked around a copse of trees, his house luckily not too far from hers. 

Her eyes went wide when she looked up, the space where Sandor’s trailer was supposed to be now empty, just a rectangle of wet, soggy mud surrounded by piles of snow. She looked around the area, making sure she was in the right spot, her head swiveling quickly as she took note of the trees, the surrounding trailers. 

_Ok? It was right here._

She turned back to the empty spot, her eyebrows furrowing as she frowned, her hand tightening on her bag strap. “..Am I going crazy?” 

_Oh gods, was he fired?_

She turned to the castle, grabbing her bag and holding it tightly against her chest before running as fast as she could, snow flying up behind her with each step.

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/f9/55/eaf955890483524286392908987fa837.jpg)

Sansa walked into the busy dining room, her face flushed from her run outside as she scanned the space, frowning when she didn’t see his tall frame mingling with the cast and crew eating breakfast. 

“Sansa!” 

She turned towards the voice, smiling when she saw Sam waving at her from a table, Osha and Gendry sitting with him, their plates stacked high with various breakfast foods. She walked up to the table, nodding at everyone as Sam scooted over so Sansa could squeeze in on the bench next to him, her bag balanced on her lap as Osha spoke from her seat across the table.

“Have they taken your statement yet?” 

Sansa frowned, shaking her head. “No, statement for what?”

Gendry rolled his eyes, making an aggravated noise as Osha leaned towards Sansa, her forearms on the table. “Littlefinger is trying to get Clegane fired.” 

Sansa’s eyes widened as she leaned back, her heart thudding in her chest. 

_No!_

Osha shook her head. “It won’t go anywhere, they already took our statements.” She gestured to herself, Sam and Gendry, shrugging a shoulder. “We just told them what happened - Petyr slipped on the water and Clegane helped him up.” 

Sansa nodded, letting out the breath she was holding. “Right, of course. I’ll say the same, naturally.” 

Osha gave Sansa a friendly wink. “We thought you might. Luckily Varys likes Clegane, says he’s good for the show. I don’t think Littlefinger has as much power as he thinks he does, so for now, Clegane is safe.” 

Sansa brushed her thumb across the rough grain of the table. “So..where is he? His trailer.. It’s moved.” 

Osha raised a knowing eyebrow and Sansa fought to keep her face straight, shrugging a shoulder casually. Osha grinned, unconvinced.

Gendry hummed, stabbing his fork into his pile of pancakes. “We think his trailer was moved to the other side of the castle.” 

Sansa frowned, confused. “Out by the frozen lake?”

Gendry shook his head, stuffing a bite into his mouth, his voice muffled around the food. “No - oba by ‘he -umpsers.” 

Sansa’s eyes went wide. “The dumpsters?” 

Gendry nodded, his cheeks puffed out with food as he gestured with his chin to Sam. Sam smiled, turning to Sansa. “We saw Pod trekking in from that direction last night.” 

“Oh.” Sansa looked around, not spotting him. “Where _is_ Pod?” 

Osha laughed when Sam’s cheeks turned red as he looked away from her, Gendry making a slight choking noise, his face blushing as well. Osha clapped Gendry on the back forcefully with her hand before turning to Sansa, her face amused. “He’s back in the crew bunks - probably won’t see any sight of him until well past noon. Pod’s _very_ popular.” 

Sansa wrinkled her nose in confusion, imagining the sweet-faced Pod as he happily carried Sandor’s towels in the snow. “Pod? Clegane’s assistant?”

Gendry’s eyes went wide, his face slightly traumatized as he reached out for the cup in front of his plate. _“Oh,_ yes.” 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a0/23/a2/a023a216d48f98754b47841c39bcea14.jpg)

Sansa frowned as she passed the dumpsters clumped together in front of a shabby patch of trees, her head shaking in disbelief as she made her way to Sandor’s front door. 

She raised her hand to knock, pausing briefly to give herself one last chance to back out and just go study by herself before she shook her head, knocking quickly on his door and taking a step back. 

_“Fuck you, cunt bag!”_

“I fucking told you to take the day off.” His voice was muffled, heavy steps getting closer before the door popped open, Sandor bent over in the doorway, a large metal wrench in his hand. His eyes widened once he spotted her. “Oh, fuck. You’re not Payne.” 

Sansa smiled, pleased that he was _here_ and not fired. Her eyes roamed over him, taking in his dirty white tank top, the grime smudged on his forehead, his hair tied up in a top knot - the whole look making her stomach swoop. 

“Uh..” He frowned, his eyes moving to the bag hanging from her shoulder before looking out towards the rest of the cast and crew trailers on the other side of the property. “Are you.. locked out?” 

Sansa laughed, shaking her head. “Why do you always think I’m locked out?” 

Sandor shrugged, scratching his collarbone with the wrench in his hand, his face genuinely confused. “Why else would you come all the fucking way over here?” 

Sansa cleared her throat, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. “I uh.. have you looked over the new script yet?” 

Sandor shook his head, gesturing inside with the wrench. “Not yet, just finished fixing the plumbing from the fucking hack job the movers did.” 

“Oh.” Sansa swallowed, her heart racing as she squeezed her bag strap in her hand. “Well..I thought maybe we could study together. A lot of the scenes.. We’re.. They’re of Little Bird and the Hound.” 

She watched his face closely, holding her breath as he blinked at her, his brows furrowing. 

He shifted his weight slowly, turning his body to the side in the doorway, making space for her to come in. 

She smiled, relieved as she stepped up into his trailer, her shoulder grazing his stomach when she squeezed past him through the doorway. 

\- - -

“Uhh..” Sandor looked down at his hands, his palms covered in dirt and grime from working with the plumbing. “Let me just.. clean up.” He dropped the wrench into the fabric tool bag on the kitchen floor, kicking it to the side. 

“Oh, sure.” Sansa smiled at him before turning to set her bag on the table, Sandor looking away quickly when she bent over to take her boots off. 

_Fuck._

“It was rude of me to just drop by - you go ahead and do whatever you need to. I’ll just get my script out.” 

He nodded, turning around quickly to walk through his tiny kitchen into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/de/aa/53/deaa5323cc1c344ed13c4f6106d6a287.jpg)

_“Fuuuck.”_

The word was barely more than a whisper out of his mouth, his eyes wide as he took a second to panic. 

_Alright, fucker. Be fucking professional - that’s what she wants._

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back on the door quietly, collecting himself. 

“Fuck.” 

He pushed off the door, moving quickly to shuck off his shirt and throw it on the floor, his pants soon following before he reached inside the shower to turn the water on. 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/4f/a8/07/4fa80744a14b31295d1b25f4ab6c3b6b.jpg)

Sansa nodded to Stranger as she hung her coat on the back of the lone kitchen chair, her face carefully neutral before the bird ducked back down into his house, his head no longer visible through his front window. She smiled then, sitting down and sliding the script across the table to look through while she waited. 

She jerked when the bathroom door whipped open, Sandor standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, water droplets falling from his hair and running down his chest. 

_Seven above._

She glanced away quickly, looking back down at the script in her hands as her cheeks pinked against her wishes. 

_Really Sansa, less than twenty-four hours ago you were_ **_straddling_ ** _the man, mostly naked together in a tub. Get it together._

“I, uh.. My clothes are out here.” 

She looked up, an unsure look on Sandor’s face as he walked out into the room, his dirty clothes balled up in one hand, the other fisting the towel around his waist tightly. 

“No, of course.” She nodded, willing herself to act like an adult. She turned in the chair so she could see him, an apologetic smile on her face. “I’m sorry for just barging in - if you had plans today, we can always study later.” 

Sandor shrugged. “No plans.” He opened a panel underneath the stairs and threw the dirty clothes into the hamper hidden inside. “I needed to go over the script anyway. Might as well do it together.” He pulled a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt out of the cabinet, looking at her warily. “Uh..” 

“Oh!” She turned quickly, her back to him so he could get dressed, her breath stuttering when she heard his towel hit the floor. She looked down at the script, her cheeks blushing as she listened to the sounds of cloth against skin, her eyes squeezing shut tightly, trying to ignore the images of his sculpted bare chest that popped up in her head.

“All clear.” 

She turned back to him just as he shut the panel, his hair leaving wet marks on his shirt as he bent down to pick up his towel from the floor.

“So.” She watched him from her seat as he walked through the kitchen, hanging his towel up on the corner of the bathroom door. “Your new location is.. lovely.” 

He scoffed, nodding as he reached inside Stranger’s house and pulled out a water bottle with a little bowl on one end. “Yeah, a real fucking paradise over here.” He walked to the sink, turning the water on, his focus on filling Stranger’s bottle up.

Sansa moved her hands underneath her thighs, her head tilting curiously. “Do you think it was Petyr?”

Sandor looked over at her, his eyebrow raised incredulously as he turned the water off. “Who else?” Sansa nodded as Sandor put the water bottle back inside Stranger’s house. He bent over briefly to peek inside at him before Sandor turned around, leaning back against the counter in front of the sink. “Apparently there was a spontaneous Radon concentration that sprang up in a twenty-foot radius. So I had to move.”

Sansa scoffed, her nose wrinkling. _“Wow,_ he wasn’t even trying to be subtle, was he?” 

Sandor shrugged, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Fucker’s plan backfired - I’m used to being out on a big plot of land by myself. The silence doesn’t bother me.” 

Sansa hummed, leaning her elbow on the table. “Did you grow up on a farm?”

Sandor nodded, sniffing as he looked down at his feet, shifting his weight. “With my grandfather.” 

“Oh.“ Sansa waited for him to expand on the statement but he didn’t, instead the silence between them growing longer. 

She smiled, following his lead and dropping the subject, tapping her hand on the script laying on the table. “So. Where do you normally look these over? The couch?”

Sandor’s eyes shifted briefly up to his bed as he stood up from the counter. “Uhh.. “ 

Sansa looked up towards the bedroom area, her cheeks feeling warm. 

“Oh.”

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a6/25/b2/a625b265ca473becbaceb2450802804b.jpg)

“And here, look.” Sansa turned her script around so he could see it, her legs crossed as she sat in the middle of his bed facing Sandor sitting with his back up against the wall by the pillows. “They’re at it again just a few moments later.” 

Sandor shook his head, his eyes moving back to the pages in his hands. “Don’t they realize there’s a fucking _battle_ happening soon? There isn’t time to be fucking in the hallways this much.” 

Sansa smiled, tilting her head in consideration as she looked back down at the script. “Well, they both probably think they’ll die in the battle - maybe that’s what they want to focus on, you know?”

Sandor huffed, pointing to a paragraph on his page. “No, I mean there’s _literally_ no fucking time for them to do this. _Seven_ times? In one day? Plus getting the men ready, stuffing the townspeople into the crypt - This isn’t fucking possible.” 

Sansa pursed her lips, looking at the view beside her while thinking over what he said. She shrugged a shoulder, laying her script down on her lap. “She would be _awfully_ sore.” 

Sandor turned to her, his eyebrows raised. _“Her?_ What about _him?_ He’s the one who has to hold her up against the wall each time. He’s gonna have fucking back problems before he even hits forty!” 

Sansa laughed, shaking her head. “Wait, wait - I think we’ve stopped talking about the Hound now.” 

Sandor scoffed, his eyes wide. “I’ve had to make a standing chiropractic appointment since this season started - your gowns are _way_ too fucking heavy.” 

\- - - 

_“Ew,_ no!” She grimaced at him, now laying down across the bed on her stomach, Sandor still sitting up against the wall by the pillows. “Little Bird would _never_ sleep with him. Not in a million years - his tongue is disgusting and slimy.” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Now that sounds like _your_ opinion of him, not hers.” 

Sansa nodded, her eyes wide as she pushed the script aside. “Trust me, she and I are on the same page when it comes to _King_ Joffrey. He’s _vile._ Not happening.” 

Sandor looked over at her curiously, fidgeting with a yellow highlighter in his hands. “So if they wrote a serious romance plot between you guys?”

Sansa shook her head, adamant. “I would quit, swear to the Seven.” 

Sandor tilted his head, his face showing his disbelief. “Really? You would quit the most popular show in the country over him?”

Sansa scoffed, her hand on her chest. “Even someone with such _expert_ training as mine-”

Sandor groaned, tilting his head back against the wall. “Oh fuck, here we go.” 

Sansa spoke louder, ignoring him. “EVEN with my _expert training,_ even someone with _more_ training, some thespian _God,_ it doesn’t matter - _no one_ could act well enough to make any type of love towards him believable.” 

Sandor hummed thoughtfully. “So we have Arryn’s School of SnootyFucks to thank for our raging success on camera?”

“Well…” Sansa pointed to herself. “Arryn’s School of SnootyFucks _plus..”_ She gestured to him, her eyebrow raised expectantly. 

The corner of Sandor’s mouth twitched, failing to hide his amusement as he blinked at her, his chin rising slightly. “...Plumbers and Pipefitters Academy of the West.” 

Sansa grinned, pleased. 

\- - -

“Ok, ok, last one.” 

Sandor groaned, rolling his eyes. “You said this quiz would be quick - it’s been a fucking century.” 

Sansa laughed, swatting at his leg lightly, his phone in her other hand, her body still stretched out across the mattress on her stomach. “It’s the _last one_ you giant baby. Here, listen - _‘_ _Once every century, the Flutterby bush-”_

He leaned his head back against the wall with a dull _thump._ “For _fuck’s_ sake.” 

Sansa pushed his leg again, her hand remaining on his shin as she continued. _“-produces flowers that adapt their scent to attract the unwary. If it lured you, what would it smell of? A - a crackling log in the fire, B - unrolled parchment, C - the sea, or D - freshly baked lemon tarts.’”_

He sighed, his eyes shifting from her hand on his leg to her face, raising an eyebrow. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what parchment smells like? Why can’t they just say paper?”

Sansa scoffed, offended. “Hogwarts students can’t just use _paper_ like some _muggles!”_ She pointed his phone at him. _“You’re_ the one who said you wanted to find out what house you’d be sorted into.” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “No, _you_ asked if I had ever been sorted and I said no. And then you used your sharp fucking elbows to steal my phone.” He rubbed at his ribs, certain his stomach was covered in black and blue bruises. 

Sansa hummed, unconcerned as she held his phone up. “Anyways, which one is it?” She moved her hand from his leg to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, her eyes on the screen. “I already know what you’re gonna be sorted into so it’s not like this last question even matters.” 

Sandor looked down at his leg, the spot still warm from her hand. He made a curious noise, turning his focus back on her. “And which one do you think it’ll be?”

Sansa shook her head, smiling up at him. “Nuh-uh, your answer first.”

Sandor blew the air out of his cheeks, looking out the window beside them, blinking at the sunlight bouncing off of the snow. He sighed, shrugging a shoulder before looking back at her.

“Lemon tarts.” 

Sansa smiled at him, her eyes warm as she looked down at his phone, tapping on the screen. 

“A-ha! I _knew_ it!” 

She turned it around so he could see, her face beaming. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e7/b3/88/e7b388078dfb5f9a976e9bd0678f6ff6.jpg)

Sandor hummed, taking the phone from her so he could read the description. “That’s the brave one, right?” 

Sansa cackled. 

\- - -

“We were together _once_ but he milked it for months afterwards to the magazines - apparently we were even engaged at one point _.”_ They were both laying on their backs now, their feet in opposite directions, Sandor’s hanging off the side of the bed. Sansa’s hair was fanned out on the mattress as she turned to look at him, her nose wrinkling. “And he wasn’t even good.” She gestured to him with her chin, setting down a half-empty packet of skittles beside her. “What about you?”

Sandor groaned, reaching forward to grab the open bag of popcorn on the bed, the contents of Sansa’s snack bag now emptied out all over the mattress. “The last time for me was complete shit. She refused to call me anything else besides the fucking Hound, wanted _me_ to call her Little Bird-”

A spike of jealousy flared in Sansa’s chest as she wrinkled her nose. “Tell me you didn’t.” She sat up on her elbow, her jaw dropping, offended. “Oh gods, you _did,_ didn’t you?”

Sandor scoffed. _“Fuck_ no.” 

Sansa smiled, Sandor’s eyes on the bag of popcorn as he jostled the contents slightly. “I don’t play that shit. Plus it was the third time in a row. Once I realized women only want to fuck the Hound...”

He trailed off and Sansa shook her head, grimacing. “Ugh, that’s so gross, using you like that.” 

He hummed, shrugging a shoulder as he reached inside the popcorn bag. “But that was a long time ago - a _long_ time.” 

_“Oh_ no, I’m not getting into that contest.” Sansa looked away from him, sitting up on the bed, her legs crossing underneath her as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’ll definitely win, which in turn will make me feel like the _biggest_ loser.” 

Sandor raised his eyebrow at her, his hand in the bag going still. “I don’t think you have my record beat, it’s been a _while.”_

Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes. “Alright. Let’s hear it. It better be impressive.” 

Sandor huffed a laugh. “Eight months.”

Sansa groaned as she reached across the bed to get her script. “Well, we should really get back to work. What page were we on?”

Sandor smirked, bumping the script in her hands with his foot. “Fess up, Stark.” 

Sansa scoffed at him playfully, her eyes focusing intently on the papers in her hand.

Sandor narrowed his eyes at her. 

“A year.” 

Sansa flipped the page, her voice bright. “I think we were on the scene where the Hound pulls Little Bird into the crypts, right?” She shuddered. _“Blech,_ who would want to do it down there?”

“Eighteen months.”

Sansa shook her head, her eyes studiously focused on the script as Sandor’s eyebrows rose in interest. “Two years?” 

Sansa made an uncertain noise, shrugging a shoulder.

Sandor’s eyes went wide. _“Longer_ than two years?”

Sansa glared at him, kicking her foot out and pushing his leg forcefully.

_“Wow.”_ Sandor shook his head, staring blankly at the ceiling while thinking the new information over. He turned to look at her, his brows furrowed curiously, his tone sympathetic. 

“So.. it’s pretty dusty down there then, huh?”

_“Ugh!”_ Sansa reached across the bed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him in the shoulder with it, Sandor laughing out loud as he dodged her second swing. 

A tinny ring filled the air, a robotic version of a popular guitar riff that Sansa couldn’t place. 

Sansa paused while Sandor searched under the other pillows, flipping them aside until he found his phone, looking at the screen quickly before bringing the phone to his ear.

“It’s your fucking day off, I don’t need anything.” 

There was a brief pause, Sandor turning to look at her before looking away towards the window. “Yeah, she’s here. We’re going over the script for this week.” 

Sansa smiled faintly, the scripts previously abandoned hours ago before she picked hers up just now.

Sandor sighed, holding the phone out to her. She quirked an eyebrow at him as she took it but he only shrugged a shoulder, not giving her anything else. 

She put the phone up to her ear warily. 

“..Hello?”

_“Are you doing him?”_

Arya’s voice came through the other end, her words crisp and short. Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes. “Hello to you, too. Why are you calling me on Clegane’s phone?”

Arya scoffed, aggravated. _“Uhh, because I found yours in the silverware drawer at your house and I thought you’d been kidnapped. He’s my number one suspect.”_

Sansa shook her head, smiling as she flopped down on the bed. “Well, you can rest assured - I’m here willingly.”

Arya paused briefly. _“..is he making you say that? Say the word “foliage” if you need help.”_

Sansa sighed. “Good- _bye_ Arya.”

_“No, no wait!”_

Sansa made a frustrated noise, her hand tightening on Sandor’s phone. “What?”

_“I was looking through your drawers, you know, for clues on your kidnapping, and I found this gift card for that pizza place in town.”_

“Ok?”

_“So.. can I have it?”_

Sansa scoffed. “No, I’m saving it. Hence why it’s in _my_ trailer.” 

Arya didn’t answer right away and Sansa checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped - it hadn’t. 

“Arya?”

Arya cleared her throat. _“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”_

Sansa groaned. “Arya! You had no right - that was _mine!”_

\- - -

Her face was pinched in mock anger, her cheeks flushed as she slammed the pillow against his arm, Sandor dodging her second swing just as his phone rang, breaking his focus. 

_Well, fuck._

He searched the bed, tossing the pillows out of the way until he spotted it, rolling his eyes when he saw Pod’s name pop up on his screen. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/63/7d/02/637d02d8d6622094ea12d590bde89948.jpg)

“It’s your fucking day off, I don’t need anything.” 

_“Not Pod, tit-gazer. Do you know where my sister is?”_

He turned to look at her, noticing the top of her sweater was all messed up, dipping down to show the bare skin of her collarbone and part of her shoulder, making Sandor’s throat dry. 

_Damn._

He looked away from her as he answered. “Yeah, she’s here. We’re going over the script for this week.” 

_“That seems fucking unlikely since she always studies alone. Let me talk to her to make sure she isn’t tied up in the corner.”_

He rolled his eyes, handing Sansa the phone as she gave him a curious look. He just shrugged, laying down on his back, his fingers intertwined behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. 

“..Hello?”

Sansa sighed, her tone relaxed. “Hello to you, too. Why are you calling me on Clegane’s phone?”

Sandor blinked, his eyes studying the ceiling as she talked to her sister. 

_It’s a work meeting. Work meetings end, she’s got shit to do, you got shit to do. You haven’t worked out at all today, Stranger’s house needs cleaning, should probably start getting that stuff together for taxes. You only have like, six months left until it’s due.._

He raised an eyebrow when she laid down beside him. “Well you can rest assured - I’m here willingly.”

_Of fucking course she’s here willingly. She came here by choice. To study._

Sandor’s brows furrowed as he thought over their time together, how little _studying_ they actually did. 

_Wait.._

_..Oh, fuck._

_\- - -_

Sansa sighed irritably as she tossed Sandor’s phone down on the mattress, rolling on her side to look at him, her hands under her cheek. “Siblings are the worst.” 

Sandor hummed noncommittally, his hand moving to scratch at his shoulder before he rested his arm between them on the bed. “They can be shit, yeah.” 

Sansa’s eyes roamed down his arm, his muscular form visible even through the sleeve of his shirt, making her stomach swoop. 

Sandor cleared his throat, his eyes still looking up at the ceiling. “We didn’t do much studying.” 

She smiled, shaking her head faintly, reaching out to rub the fabric of his sleeve between her fingers. “Nope, we didn’t. Lyanna is gonna be pretty pissed if we show up unprepared tomorrow.” 

He hummed, his brows furrowing as he looked over at her, his face guarded. “Do you.. want to study? Or do you have to go?”

Sansa shrugged a shoulder, her heart pounding as she focused on the texture of his shirt.

“Neither.” 

He didn’t say anything, just silence between them as Sansa continued rubbing his sleeve between her fingers. She moved her hand, her fingertips gradually curling around the muscle there until her palm laid flat against his arm. 

She took in a deep breath before she looked up, wanting to gauge his reaction. 

He was watching her, his eyes blinking once before he moved slowly, leaning up on his elbow, his body turning towards hers.

He watched her for a moment before he spoke, his eyes moving down to her shoulder. “It was you in the tub yesterday. Not Little Bird.” He flicked his eyes up to hers, raising an eyebrow. “Right?”

Sansa smiled, nodding once. 

He huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement as he looked away for a moment, his fingers tapping a random beat on the mattress while he thought it over. He exhaled through his nose, looking back at her, his eyes sweeping over her face, landing on her smile. 

He leaned down slowly, Sansa’s hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him towards her until his lips covered hers.

Kissing him was not like kissing the Hound on set - Sandor’s movements were sure as he shifted over her, his lower body pressing her down into the mattress, his forearm coming by her head, his free hand finding its way to her waist. Sansa sighed against him, her legs wrapping around his hips, their centers lining up as she tilted her head, her mouth opening up to his easily, her heart racing as he slid his hand down her side, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

He groaned, a low noise from deep in his chest as he squeezed her hip, his lips slowing on hers before he pulled back. He rested his forehead on her collarbone, his breath coming out in pants. “Fuck, that..was more than I meant to do.” 

Sansa laughed, happy as she ran her nails lightly down his back, Sandor arching slightly into it. “You won’t hear any complaints from me.” 

Sandor groaned again, his head lifting up to look at her. “If we keep going, I’m gonna fucking embarrass myself like a green boy.” 

Sansa smiled, her cheeks heating as her hands stilled on his back, her fingers pressing down into the muscle she felt there. “I can’t really say it would bother me - kind of a compliment, actually.” 

Sandor hummed, leaning down to kiss her, Sansa returning it freely before he rolled to the side, his arm pressed tightly against hers as they both looked up at the ceiling. 

She turned to look at him when he blew the air out of his cheeks, his hand moving to scratch at his eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips.

“Well.. fuck.” 

\- - -

Sansa sighed happily as she walked into her trailer, the lights off, the sky dark outside, the moonlight illuminating the space softly. She leaned back against the door, letting her bag fall to the ground with a _thump_ , a high-pitched squeal coming from her throat as she closed her eyes, doing a small happy dance. 

“Well, someone looks _pleased.”_

_“Gods!”_

Sansa jumped, her heart thudding painfully as she brushed her hand along the wall, flipping the light switch on. 

Sansa scowled at her sister. “Was that _really_ necessary?!” 

Arya grinned, her body laid out on the couch, a box of pizza on her stomach as she eyed the piece in her hand. “No, but it was fun.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes, bending to pick up her bag from the floor, walking forward to shove it into a cabinet. “So you’re just sitting in the dark this whole time to scare me?” 

Arya shook her head, taking a huge bite, her words muffled around the food. “No. Saw you coming.” She swung her arm up, her palm smacking against the light switch on the wall above her head, the lights going out. 

Sansa sighed, walking back to the door to turn the lights on, her face unamused as she regarded her sister. “You have an interesting mind.” 

Arya scoffed. “What _I_ find interesting is how long you were gone.” She looked over at Sansa, raising an eyebrow. “Your hair looks a little messy there, Sans.”

Sansa smoothed her hand down, her cheeks pinking as she bit her lip, trying to contain her smile. Arya groaned as Sansa walked towards her, sitting cross legged on the ground in front of the couch and reaching into the box for a slice.

“Really, Sansa? _Him?”_

Sansa shrugged, wrinkling her nose as she peeled off a piece of onion, tossing it back into the box. “I like him. He’s.. he’s different.” 

Arya rolled her eyes, picking up the onion pieces Sansa was discarding and piling them on the slice in her hand. “He’s not, Sans. There’s been a shit-ton of articles in Wankers Weekly all about how he’s a womanizer - _several_ women have come forward and said he just fucked them and left. He’s a _dog_ \- pun intended.” 

Sansa shook her head, taking the small pile of olives Arya had set aside and placing it on her slice. “I don’t know why you read those magazines when you know they’re full of lies. He isn’t like that. We didn’t even have sex tonight - _he_ stopped it.” 

Arya scoffed. “Classic long con. His true colors will come out sooner or later.” 

Sansa hummed, taking a bite of her pizza, _starving._ “I agree - and I’ll expect an apology.”

Arya frowned, taking a bite of her slice, both sisters silent as they ate together. Arya huffed finally, gesturing to the slice Sansa was eating. “I was saving that for breakfast, you know.” 

Sansa hummed, taking another bite. “I have cereal you can take with you.”

Arya shook her head. “You _did_ have cereal. You might be out - I’m not sure. Maybe.”

_“Arya!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned I don't do angst very well? This will be fluff city, kids. Mostly. But we'll get to that. 
> 
> Ok! Leave a comment if you liked it so I know to keep postiiiiiiing!!!! 💛💛💛


	8. Those horny fuckers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Onion Breath! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading - enjoy! 💛

_Monday_

[ **__ ** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/5f/ac/d3/5facd37a3f4e3e0257a18d0d745723b7.jpg)

Sam nodded, standing to the side as the crew waited for Lighting to finish setting up. “So then, you get this timer on your arm and it counts down the seconds until you meet your soul mate!” 

He could feel his heart rate increase, always excited when it came to talking about new books - even more thrilling when the person he was talking to seemed genuinely interested. “It’s a _fascinating_ read - it deals with the complexities of destiny versus free will, fate versus choice.” 

Sansa nodded, her eyes wide, her smile warm. “Oooh, it sounds fantastic, Sam. I would love to borrow it when you’re through.” She leaned towards him slightly, her voice low. “I had no idea you were a romantic.” 

Sam’s cheeks heated as he looked down at the styrofoam cup in his hand, swirling the remnants of his coffee slightly. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d call myself a romantic..” His head tilted up, his eyes moving through the crowd of people, stopping once he spotted _her._ “Just someone who enjoys reading about it, I guess.” 

Sansa smiled, her eyes following his gaze to the wardrobe assistant, the young woman fluffing a dress that was hanging from a rack against the wall. “I see.” She waited a beat before nudging him gently with her arm. “You should go talk to her.” 

Sam coughed, shaking his head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. She.. I couldn’t.” 

Sansa hummed in disagreement, her hand squeezing his forearm gently. “You _could,_ if you wanted. You never know what could grow from just being friendly with someone.” 

Sam nodded, giving her a tight smile before flicking his eyes back to the assistant, her face lighting up as she smiled at Lyanna, the women exchanging a few words.

“Stark. Tarly.” 

Sam turned, an easy smile on his face as he regarded the man walking up to join them. “Hi, Sandor.” 

Sandor nodded at him, three cups of coffee in his hands as he came to a stop beside Sam, gesturing to Sam’s cup. “I thought you could use a refill.” He held out a cup, Sam taking it with a grateful nod. 

“I could, yes, thank you.” He sleeved the full cup inside his empty one, humming as he took a sip of the hot liquid. 

“Hi, Clegane.” Sansa smiled up at him, her cheeks pinking slightly as she took the cup he held out to her, giving him a small nod. 

“Stark.” 

Sandor returned her nod, his eyes on hers as they both took a long draw from their cups, Sansa breaking first as she lowered her cup with a giggle. “Anything exciting happen on your day off?” 

Sandor shrugged, unbothered, his posture relaxed as he regarded her. “Not really. Same as usual.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow, her eyes full of amusement. “Oh really? Well, that’s such a shame. My Sunday was positively _tedious.”_

Sandor nodded as his eyes trailed across her face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a peculiar way. “I’ll fucking bet it was. Sounds terrible.”

“Just dreadful.” Sansa giggled again, her eyes locked with Sandor’s, her skin looking flushed.

Sam blinked, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as he looked back and forth between them, concerned. “What .. was in that coffee, Sandor?”

Sandor huffed, clapping Sam on the shoulder, Sam moving forward slightly from the force of it. “Nothing, Tarly.” He looked back at Sansa, raising an eyebrow. “I need to go see Wardrobe about a button - wanna come?” 

Sansa nodded, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yeah, that sounds fun. I saw Gilly on set if you want to go see her. Or we can walk to Wardrobe. It’s whatever, doesn’t matter to me.”

Sandor shrugged, his eyes on hers. “I don’t care.” 

Sansa grinned, practically beaming at him. “Cool.”

Sam stared at them, completely confused, growing more worried as he watched them interact. 

_Flushed skin, unfocused train of thought.. have they been drugged? What poisons could absorb that quickly into the bloodstream?_

He looked down at the cup in his hand, his face wary. 

“Do you want to come, Sam?” Sansa looked over her shoulder at him, her eyebrow raised curiously. 

“Um..” He looked over at the wardrobe rack, Gilly steaming a set of dresses now. He gulped, nodding faintly. “.. yes.” 

He turned, setting his likely poisoned coffee cup down on a nearby table, his hands nervously straightening his mic harness as he followed behind Sansa. 

\- - - 

_Tuesday_

_“Shhh,_ someone will hear!” 

She whispered the words against his lips, a deep growl coming from his chest as he tried to find her legs amidst all the fabric of the dress, his hands lost. 

“Too many _fucking_ layers.” 

She laughed lightly, her fingers tightening their hold on his leather chestplate, her back arching into him as he continued to fight the dress.

“Just.. just _rip_ it.” 

He looked up at her, his brows furrowing as his hands faltered. “But.. then they’ll know.” 

She shrugged a shoulder, her hand reaching up to palm his cheek, her eyes watering. “I’m not ashamed of this. I’ve..This is something..” She trailed off, shaking her head, her face unsure.

 _“CUT!”_

Lyanna sighed, pulling her headphones off and rubbing her hands down her face briskly. 

_What the hell is going_ **_on_ ** _with them today?_

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Lyanna.” 

Lyanna opened her eyes, sighing as she got up out of her chair and walked over to her actors, Sansa looking sheepish. 

“Can I talk to you a minute, Sansa?” 

Sansa’s cheeks darkened as she nodded, Sandor’s lips twitching before he took a step back from her, giving her room to move. “Someone’s in trouble.” 

Sansa turned to glare at him, making Lyanna roll her eyes at them both. “Enough! She’s not in trouble, you idiot. Just.. need to talk about some blocking.” 

She guided Sansa away from the staircase, her voice quiet as she leaned in close. “Are you ok?”

Sansa nodded, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white, her words flying out her mouth. “I’m _so_ sorry, I didn’t get in a lot of study time like I normally do, which is _totally_ my fault. I swear I’m not trying to make us keep having to reset, I feel just completely awful and unprofessio-” 

Lyanna shook her head, dismissing Sansa’s concerns with a wave. “No, we’ll reset as many times as we need to, Sansa.” She sighed, her eyes looking over at Sandor in the stairwell, Roslin handing him a script as he sat down on the stairs. “I know the romance scenes really stress you out.” She shrugged a shoulder, her gaze turning back to Sansa. _“I_ certainly could never do it - and I’ll never fault you for it. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure Clegane wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” 

“No!” Sansa shook her head, her eyes wide as she took a step towards Lyanna, her voice firm. “No, not at all. Clegane has never made me uncomfortable.” 

Lyanna nodded, figuring as much. “He doesn’t seem like the type, but you never know.” 

She looked back to Sandor, the actor’s brows furrowed as he studied the script, Osha touching up the translucent powder on his face. “Alright, well, you have to tell me if you’ve had enough. I know this week is full of scenes with you two, I wouldn’t be surprised if you got overwhelmed.” 

She looked back at Sansa, confused when the actress was still looking over at Sandor, her eyes watching him as he nodded at something Osha said. 

“Sansa?” 

Sansa jumped slightly, her cheeks pinking as she smiled nervously. “Right, no, we’re good.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, pointing over towards the stairs. “Do you mind if I review the script real quick before we start again?” 

Lyanna nodded, gesturing for her to go ahead, her eyes following the actress as she walked over to the stairwell, Sandor looking up when she approached, his eyebrow raising playfully. Sansa rolled her eyes, a smile on her face as she sat down next to him, stealing the script from his hands and holding it so he could see it too. Her body leaned into his, her mouth moving as she read a line outloud, Sandor watching her closely, his eyes drifting down her face. 

Lyanna sighed, rolling her eyes. 

_Ah, hell._

\- - - 

_Wednesday_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/1c/16/41/1c16411d65223ca60f9907fd6ffcc330.jpg)

“You seem nervous.” Osha ran her brush over Tormund’s face, the redhead scoffing jovially as she darkened the dirt smudges on his skin.

“I’ve been on camera before, Bruni.” 

She hummed, tilting her head in consideration. “Yeah, usually with this mug hidden under a helmet.” She snapped the palette shut, looking over his makeup closely, her tone teasing. “A fact that we’ve all been grateful for.” 

Tormund barked a laugh, his eyes dipping down to her chest covered by a thick jacket. “You didn’t mind this _mug_ between those thighs. In fact, I remember you _not_ minding a few times that night.” 

Osha hummed, unbothered as she tucked the palette into her apron, pulling out a small bag of coffee grounds mixed with lotion. “And you’ll also remember it hasn’t happened since - you were fun but I still prefer women.” 

Tormund laughed as Osha grinned, brushing her fingers across his forehead, making him look appropriately dirty for the upcoming scene. He shrugged a shoulder, running his tongue over his teeth as he looked her over. “I’ll tuck away whatever I need to if you just let me have another taste of that sweet cu-”

Lyanna whistled, getting the crew’s attention. “Alright, listen up for assignments!” 

Osha huffed a laugh at Tormund, the redhead sticking his lip out in an exaggerated pout at Osha as she pushed his shoulder, turning to pay attention to Lyanna. 

Lyanna was looking down at her clipboard, her voice carrying easily over the large crew in the yard. “A Team today is Yara on camera, Jojen for sound - you guys are focused on the Hound as he makes his way through the ranks, checking the men and readying them for battle. B Team is Gendry on camera, Sam for sound - you are the Queen’s men today, following her as she shuttles the women and children into the crypts - _Don’t_ even get me started on how sexist it is that the majority of women aren’t _allowed_ to fight - Everyone good? Good.” 

She lowered her clipboard, her eyes searching the crowd as everyone moved to get into place. “Where are my leads? Anyone seen them?” She continued searching as she pulled her radio off of her belt, calling into it for Sandor and Sansa. 

Osha sighed, wiping her hand off on her pants as she shoved the bag of coffee back into her apron. “I’ll find them! I need to check Clegane’s dirt anyways.”

Lyanna nodded, giving Osha a thumbs up before turning to another crew member, barking directions at him while she pointed vaguely into the air.

Tormund winked at Osha, his tone cheery as she turned to walk into the castle. “This conversation isn’t over, Bruni!” 

She smiled, shaking her head, her steps quick down the hallway towards Wardrobe, figuring they might be getting last minute adjustments. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/1c/5f/2c/1c5f2cf08e9fa5b0ea5726c2aa60e806.jpg)

She frowned when she heard a _thump_ , her feet pausing next to a closed wooden door that led into an empty room. She heard the noise again, louder this time, followed by giggles and shushing. 

Osha rolled her eyes, backing away from the room, not interested in listening to a pair of vanilla extras live out a medieval fantasy. 

_“Clegane! That’s gonna leave a mark!”_

Osha’s eyes went wide, not expecting Sandor to be fooling around with anybody - it was well known throughout the crew that he kept his dick to himself.

She grinned, happy for him, her smile quickly turning to a wince when she thought about Sansa and how she had been gravitating towards him lately - apparently not fast enough, since Sandor was currently _leaving marks_ on some random crew member. Or maybe an extra.

_That sucks._

Osha sucked in air through her teeth as she backed away from the door completely, taking a few steps down the hall. She cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling. 

“Ok! I’ll find them and let them know we’ll be starting soon!” 

She heard another thump followed by frantic feet shuffling on the stone floor, Osha rolling her eyes as she listened to hushed whispers being exchanged in the room. 

The door popped open and Osha schooled her face, taking steps down the hallway towards Wardrobe, preparing to look surprised when Sandor came out of the room. She took in a deep breath, turning casually to the side, her mouth opening in shock as she froze in place.

_“Sansa?!”_

“Osha, hi!” Sansa smiled tightly, smoothing her hand over the back of her head, her voice breathy. “Osh- It’s Osha!” She spoke loudly over her shoulder as she fixed the Queen’s dress around her legs, smoothing down the fabric. 

_Well I’ll be damned._

Osha bit into her bottom lip, trying to hide her amusement as she cleared her throat, tucking her hands into her makeup apron. “I was sent to find you and Clegane, they’re getting ready to start.” 

Sansa frowned, blotting the back of her fingers against her cheeks, her face looking flushed. “We- _I_ thought they were filming the scenes with the King hiding in his rooms first. So I was just.. Relaxing. A bit of silence, you know. Thinking about the character.”

Osha grinned, her voice breaking as she tried not to laugh. “Well.. I hope you were able to find a real connection in there.” She had to look away when Sansa’s eyes widened, Osha covering her laugh with a cough as she studied her shoe. “So, have you seen Clegane by chance? We need him on set.”

“Umm..” Sansa reached back, pulling the door shut with a firm motion, the metal door knocker _clinking_ against itself as Sansa shook her head. “No. I haven’t.” She stepped out into the hallway, looping her arm through Osha’s and guiding her back out towards the yard. “But, actually, I think I saw him over by the food tables out here. You know how much he likes to snack.” 

Osha hummed, her lips twitching as she let Sansa guide her down the hallway. “Oh yeah? While you were hidden in that room, you saw him?” 

Sansa nodded, her voice overly bright. “Yep! Well, I didn’t so much as _see_ him as just.. We all know that’s where he likes to be in between takes. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon!” She smiled widely, her eyes focused on the exit leading outside. 

Osha huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she looked over at Sansa, her eyes catching on a faint mark on Sansa’s skin. 

_A hickey? Really, guys?_

Osha sighed, rolling her eyes as she stopped Sansa in the hallway just before the exit, reaching into her makeup apron. “Hang on a second, Sansa. You’ve got a.. rash or something.”

Sansa’s eyes went wide, her head moving stiffly as Osha tilted her chin up, getting a closer look at the light blemish on her skin.

“Um..that’s uh..”

Sansa swallowed thickly, her mind clearly racing for an excuse of some sort, Osha taking pity on her and throwing her a bone. 

“These fake furs, they’ve been reacting with everyone’s skin lately. Must be something going on with them.” She dotted some light concealer over the area, the mark vanishing from sight easily. “Wasn’t too bad - you’re all set.” 

Sansa sighed, her smile relaxing as she squeezed Osha’s hand in hers. “Thank you, Osha.” 

Osha nodded, sliding the concealer back into her apron pocket. “You’re welcome, Sansa.” 

Sansa blew the air out of her cheeks, walking out the doorway into the snowy yard, her steps purposeful as she lifted her chin into the air. “These dang furs, causing rashes! We need to talk to someone about that!” 

Osha rolled her eyes, following Sansa outside as a door squeaked open in the hallway behind her.

\- - -

_Thursday_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c9/c3/67/c9c367901c6dd099a73172049cb4a2be.jpg)

Gendry shivered, blowing air into his hands as he waited up on the flat roof of the castle, the aerial view of the Godswood his last shot of the day. 

“Fucking Yara.” 

He looked down into the yard below, his eyes scanning for the camerawoman who had beaten him in a thumb war for the job, neither wanting to spend time in the frigid wind. 

He shivered again, pulling his hood up over his head before sighing heavily as he sat down on a wooden crate, reaching over for the magazine he’d brought to pass the time. 

_“Gendry, we’ve got the men in place and the sun is nearly there. Are you set up?”_

Gendry set the magazine down, reaching for the radio on his belt and bringing it up to his mouth. “Yeah, I’m good - standing by for your signal.” 

_“Ok, just a minute.”_

“Shit.” He got up quickly, clipping his radio back into place as he took the cover off of the lens, turning the camera on and moving behind the tripod to look through the viewfinder. 

He scanned the area, narrowing his eyes into a glare when he spotted Yara down in the Godswoods, a cup of something hot in her hands as she stood behind a camera, waiting for the scene to begin. He scoffed, zooming out and panning to the right, looking to see what other lucky souls got to stay warm close to the ground. 

A black shadow hidden in the trees crossed his frame and he stopped, panning back slowly to check it out, his hand twisting the zoom ring slightly to get a closer look. 

“Ah, Clegane.” 

Gendry’s lips curled up into a grin as he recognized the guy’s frame, his back to the camera but still identifiable since no one else on set even came close to matching his size. His body was curved forward, his head ducked down and tilted to the side, a pair of feminine hands coming around from the front to clutch at The Hound’s thick jacket as he pushed whoever it was up against a large tree. 

“Nice.” 

He made to pan away, giving the man his privacy until a flash of red caught his eye. 

“No _way.”_

His eyes widened as he zoomed in further, Sansa’s face just barely visible over Sandor’s shoulder as she returned his kiss, her hands sliding up his back to grab onto the back of his neck, Sandor’s hand bunching up the Queen’s dress, a sliver of pale skin flashing as the fabric moved up her leg. 

“Shit!” 

Gendry panned away quickly, his eyes wide as he leaned back from the camera, his jaw slack with shock. 

“Those horny _fuckers!”_

_“Gendry, go ahead and start your shot, we’re gonna need plenty of B footage of the sun setting on those trees.”_

Gendry cleared his throat, unclipping the radio and bringing it up to his mouth. “You got it, boss.” 

He blew the air out of his cheeks, returning the radio to his belt before his hands moved into place to hold the camera. 

He hesitated slightly before swinging the camera to the left, choosing to record the other side of the gardens for now. 

\- - - 

_Friday_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/f9/55/eaf955890483524286392908987fa837.jpg)

“I swear, I put on two pairs of long johns this morning but my dick is still frozen from being up there yesterday!” 

Osha laughed, shaking her head at Gendry, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s not like anyone is even using it, Waters. No harm if it falls off.” 

Gendry scoffed, his face offended as he pointed his half-eaten chicken leg at her. “I’ll have you know that _someone_ recently has taken a _great_ interest in it, actually.” 

Osha dismissed him, waving his chicken leg away. “Tormund doesn’t count - he sleeps with everyone.” 

Gendry lowered the chicken, his face unamused. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. It’s a girl, thank you very much - actually, a _woman_. So screw you.”

Sam cleared his throat, his cheeks pinking as he smiled, his voice timid. “Well, y-you really should give Gendry a break - he already has worked so hard, you know, all that huffing a-and blowing the air into his new lady friend.” 

Osha’s jaw dropped, a choked laugh escaping her throat as she grinned at Sam, clapping him on the back. “Oh- _ho! Tarly_ coming alive, I love it!”

Gendry shook his head, looking back down at his chicken, his face amused. “Can’t believe it Tarly, the _betrayal.”_

Sam smiled, pleased, nodding his head as he picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of pasta with it. 

Sansa yawned widely, her arms stretching above her head. “Well, as much fun as this is, I’m just beat.” Her eyes darted over to Sandor briefly before looking at the group. “I’m gonna head to bed.” 

Osha smirked, her eyes focused on her plate as she cut into her steak. “You’ve been heading home early every night this week. You feeling ok, Sansa?”

Sansa nodded, swinging her leg over the bench to stand, her smile tight as she bent down to pick up her tray from the table. “Oh, sure, sure - just, you know, trying to get those eight hours. Early morning of filming tomorrow! ” She cleared her throat, her eyes moving to Sandor again before she waved to the group, walking over to the trash cans to clear her tray before putting it on the return rack. 

Osha waited, counting to four before Sandor stood slowly from the table, his tray in his hand as he nodded to each of them. “Bruni. Tarly. Waters. Have a good night.” 

Osha raised an eyebrow at him, her grin wide. “You know it’s 6:30, right?”

Sandor shrugged, giving away nothing, the corner of his lips curling slowly into a smirk. “See you in the morning.” 

Osha laughed, rolling her eyes as Sandor walked over to the trash cans, leaving the three crew members behind. 

“It’s good that they’re getting such good rest. I stay up way too late reading most nights.” Sam sighed, his smile easy as he took a bite of his pasta, humming pleasantly at the taste. 

Osha scoffed, shaking her head as Gendry did the same, both of them exchanging a look. 

Gendry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, gesturing to her with his chin. “What do you know?” 

Osha shrugged, her tone relaxed. “Nothing. What do you know?” 

Gendry shrugged, his face unreadable. “Nothing.” 

“Attention - have any of you seen Sansa? I need to go over these lines and some other worker said she eats with you people.” 

They all turned to Joffrey as he walked up to their table, his nose wrinkling when he looked at the food on their plates. _“That’s_ what they’re serving in here?” He shuddered, his eyes moving to the script in his hand as he flipped through the pages. “I’m _so_ thankful I have my own private chef. I can’t imagine _what_ kind of poisons you’re putting into your body.” 

Gendry rolled his eyes, picking up his fork to stab at a cooked carrot forcefully, Osha nodding as she resumed cutting into her steak. “Ah, yes, and how is Mommy’s money? I’ve always been curious - does she pay for pussy as well? Or is that out of your own pocket?”

“Tasteless as usual, makeup girl.” He sniffed, his pointed face unamused as he looked up at her. “I’ll ask again - have any of you seen Sansa Stark?”

Osha hummed, unhurried as she took a bite of her steak, chewing carefully, taking her time. She set her fork and knife down on the plate, Joffrey huffing with annoyance as she picked up a napkin and dabbed gracefully at her mouth, laying it across her lap as she let out a loud belch, blowing it at him with a wink. “It depends - what do you need her for?”

Joffrey grimaced, his eyes full of disdain as he took a step back, the script moving in front of his body like a shield. “I’ve been performing _flawlessly_ all week, per usual, but tomorrow we’re scheduled to do our scene together.” He sniffed, his nose still wrinkled with disgust. “I’ve been watching her this week and frankly - she’s been off. I want to review our lines so she doesn’t totally botch it.”

Osha heard Gendry growl lowly, the noise making her smile pleasantly to Joffrey before she spoke. 

“She went up to the roof.” 

Sam opened his mouth, his brows furrowed as he started to speak, Osha quickly nudging his leg. His jaw snapped shut as he looked down at his plate, his cheeks red. “Yes, the roofs. Is what I heard."

Joffrey scoffed, his shoulder shrugging. “The roofs? Why?”

Gendry sniffed, his eyes focused on his plate as he scooped up a forkful of rice. “Can’t beat the views. I think she said she uses them to really harness her character’s motivation. Backstory and all that rot.” 

Osha nodded, agreeing. “Not that us _workers_ would understand anything about it.” 

“No, naturally not.” Joffrey rolled his eyes as he dropped the script down by his side. “So now it’s _my_ job to go galavanting off and find her? I don’t have _time_ for this, I’m an artist, a _savant_ , really - unappreciated in his own time. The masses of women that apprecia-”

Gendry cleared his throat, shifting his weight on the bench as he ran his tongue over the front of his teeth. “You know, I heard that Yara put together a special video for you.”

Joffrey stopped his rant, his eyebrows raising in interest. “For me?”

Gendry nodded, reaching for the glass in front of his plate as he shrugged. “Yeah, I think she said something about having a lot of extra footage of your performances. She pieced them together for you.”

 _“Ohhhhh,_ delightful.” Joffrey turned from them, his eyes scanning the dining hall until he spotted her, his steps quick as he walked away from their table. 

Osha laughed, shaking her head as she picked up her silverware, cutting into her steak. “She’s gonna fucking kill you.” 

\- - - 

_Friday Night_

Sansa sighed against his mouth, her hands roaming down his stomach, her fingertips dipping underneath his shirt as he ground his hips into hers, both of them still clothed in his bed. 

Sandor groaned, his hand coming down to rest on top of hers, stopping her from moving further up against his skin. 

She smiled against his lips, raising an eyebrow at him when he leaned his head back to look at her. “Green boy?”

Sandor nodded, blowing the air out of his cheeks as he rolled off of her, his palms pressing into his eyes. _“Fuck.”_

Sansa hummed, rolling on her side to face him. “I’d like to. Whenever you’re ready.” 

Sandor groaned again, his arm coming down to pull her close, tucking her tightly against him as he pinched his eyes shut, inhaling deeply through his nose.

She pursed her lips, letting him collect himself as she ran her hand across his stomach, her fingers finding the dips and valleys of his muscles. “Well, I think we’re doing a good job of staying under the radar.” 

Sandor scoffed, bringing one leg up, his foot flat against the bed now as he adjusted himself, pulling at the hem of his sweatpants. “I think you’re fucking delusional.” 

A ball of warmth tightened in her belly when she saw the outline of him through his pants, Sansa sighing as she looked up at his face instead, her chin pressing into his chest. “You didn’t see me, I totally fooled Osha. She has literally _no_ idea. _”_

Sandor shook his head, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “Bruni fucking knows. And if we keep disappearing together, the rest of the crew will figure it out, too.” 

Sansa shrugged a shoulder, her hands stilling on his stomach. “...Do you want to stop?”

Sandor shook his head, looking over at her. “No. But I don’t give a shit who knows.” 

Sansa smiled curiously, raising an eyebrow. “But I do?”

Sandor shrugged, his eyes moving away from her, focusing instead on the sunset outside. “I don’t know. Your past, with that fucker and the paparazzi. It could leak out into the real world.” 

Sansa shook her head, humming as she resumed running her hand over his stomach, her cheek laying flat on his chest again. “No, I don’t worry about that here. The crew seems trustworthy - at least the ones who would be around us frequently enough to even pick up on anything. And paparazzi isn’t even allowed on the property. We’re totally isolated in this, like, bubble.” 

“And when that bubble pops?” 

She looked up at him, his face closed off as he watched her closely. “Your name could be dragged through the mud if the press ties us together, Stark.” 

Sansa’s brows furrowed, her eyes studying him before she sat up on her elbow, her hand moving up to lay flat on his chest. “Is this why you’re holding back? You’re worried about my reputation?” 

Sandor cleared his throat, looking away again, his free hand moving up to shove at the pillow under his head. “I mean.. Fuck, I don’t know.” 

Sansa frowned. “You know my name's going to get muddied no matter what I do. At least this time the stories will be true.” 

Sandor hummed, unconvinced, making Sansa sit up on the bed, his hand reaching out to follow her before he pulled it back, laying it across his stomach instead, his face wary as he watched her. 

Sansa smiled, her shoulders relaxing as she moved his arm aside, crawling over him, her body settling easily on top of his. His face was still unsure as he watched her closely, his hands resting on her sides, his fingers brushing against her shirt. 

She sighed, tilting her head. “I would like to keep this between us, yes. _But-”_ She smiled, tracing his collarbone with her fingertip. “- it’s not because I’m worried about my reputation. Or what other people will think.” 

She shrugged a shoulder, her cheeks warming as she looked away from him, watching her finger on his chest. “I like our bubble. This. Just us, right now.” She trailed off, his hands rubbing her sides, making her look back up at him. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, the tension easing out of his body, Sansa smiling as she moved up to give him a quick kiss on the lips, Sandor cupping the back of her head to deepen it instead. 

He hummed against her mouth, his free hand splaying flat against her back before he rolled them over, his large body covering hers even as he moved to rest his weight on his knees. 

She smiled then, her chest feeling light and happy as he gripped her waist, his fingers tightening on her as she looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down. 

A shrill ring cut through the air, Sansa’s phone blaring from the floor beside the bed. 

“Damn. That’s my alarm.” 

Sandor growled, pressing his lips to hers one more time before he sat up, resting back on his heels as she crawled across the bed and reached for her phone. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/06/16/1b/06161bb1338d7e9632db52d083dd822e.jpg)

She slid her finger across the screen to turn it off, looking back over her shoulder at Sandor. “Weekly Dad Check-In.” 

Sandor hummed, rolling over on the bed, his hand tucked under his head as he looked over at her. “Guess you should go.”

Sansa nodded, sighing. “Or else he worries.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, shoving her phone into her bag, grabbing it before crawling over to him and kissing him chastely on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow on set?” 

Sandor shook his head. “I’m outside with the men tomorrow - you’ll be with _King_ Fuckboy all day in the war room.” 

Sansa groaned, rolling her eyes. “As if that prick could tell Little Bird any useful advice - he’s clearly just trying to get her killed so he can take over.” 

Sandor smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Go fuck him up, Red Wolf.”

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/db/69/36/db693636d78dd9459840f265a002dc5c.jpg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned you guys should really just expect a lot of fluff from this story??
> 
> 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛
> 
> Leave a comment to let me know you liked it! See you next chapter (posted on Fridays) when Sansa brings a BAG.


	9. Hope you like turkey sandwiches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for coming back to Onion Breath.. enjoy!!

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e7/46/50/e74650759824399383b8c825ec9c2230.jpg)

“Payne.” 

Pod turned around, his face relaxing into a smile as he regarded his boss. “Yes, Mr. Clegane?”

Sandor rolled his eyes, continuing his walk through the courtyard, Pod falling into step beside him as Sandor spoke. “The heater needs to be reset before one.” 

Pod nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, his thumb tapping on the screen as he set an alarm. “No problem, Mr. Clegane. Did he eat this morning?”

Sandor shook his head. “His fruit was still sitting on the porch when I left.”

Pod nodded, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “If it’s still there when I check on him, I’ll replace it with a fresh one before I leave.” 

Sandor stopped walking, gesturing with his chin to Lyanna when she looked in his direction, making sure she knew he was on set and ready. She gave him a thumbs up and he turned back to Pod, exhaling heavily. “l um.. need the sheets washed today. Towels too.”

Podrick nodded. “I can handle that right away. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Sandor cleared his throat, shifting his weight on his feet. “I left some money on the table. I uh.. need you to go to the shop in town.” He inhaled deeply through his nose, feeling like a fucking teenager. “..I need some condoms.”

Pod nodded, his eyebrows lifting slightly but his face otherwise remaining professional. “Of course. Any particular brand you like?”

Sandor shook his head. “Brand doesn’t matter. Just make sure they’ll fit.” Pod looked at him, a question on his face and Sandor rolled his eyes. “Not fucking small ones.” 

Pod nodded, his smile easy. “No, sir, of course not. Would you like me to get some lube as well or just the condoms?” 

“No, just the con-” Sandor stopped, thinking for a moment. 

“Uh..” He cleared his throat, nodding once. “Yeah, lube too.” 

\- - -

The Hound growled, reaching up to wipe the back of his gloved hand across his forehead, moving his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Who taught you Northern cunts to fight? Fucking  _ come at me!” _

The man training against him swung low, The Hound moving quickly to get out of the way of the sword’s blade, his own sword swinging wide, his bamboo blade making a low  _ clunk _ sound against his opponent’s prop armor. “Fucking horseshite! You’ll be in a  _ real _ battle soon, then you’ll see just how fu-”

The Hound’s words cut off, Sandor turning his head to follow a flash of red that appeared in his peripheral. 

A sword cut across Sandor’s stomach, the force of it catching him off guard and throwing him back, Sandor landing in the mud with a wet  _ squelch.  _

_ “CUT!” _

“Where’s your head at, you fucker? I nearly hacked your dick off!” Tormund reached out to help him up, Sandor grabbing his forearm and getting pulled up with a grunt. 

“It’d still be bigger than yours.” Sandor’s insult was halfhearted as he turned, his eyes searching the yard for her. He blew the air out of his cheeks, rolling his eyes when he spotted a redheaded extra fighting in the training yards today. 

_ “Let’s reset from the top!”  _

“Ah, found yourself a tasty morsel to admire?” Tormund bumped his shoulder roughly into Sandor, their metal armor  _ clanging _ against each other.

“No.” Sandor turned away from the woman, bending down to pick up his prop sword from the mud.

_ “Ha! _ I think Clegane finally found someone to catch his eye!” He jogged to catch up with Sandor as they moved back to their beginning marks. “And Ygritte too, that’s a nice choice. Us redheads have been kissed by fire - makes us  _ insatiable _ in bed.” Tormund wiggled his eyebrows at him, punching him in the shoulder.

Sandor huffed a laugh, thinking of Sansa arching into him last night, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly, her mouth on his as she pulled him close. 

_ Fucking insatiable, huh? _

Sandor shook his head, smirking as he pushed Tormund’s shoulder, making the redhead take a step to the side from the force of it. “Giantsbane, stop trying to fuck me and just swing your sword.” 

“Ha!” Tormund barked a laugh, moving to go stand on his mark, blowing Sandor a kiss. “Oh, I’ll swing my fucking sword alright! Too distracted by my beauty to remember the choreography! It’s a low parry then a deflect across your chest - try and block it this time, you cunt!”

Sandor scoffed, rolling his shoulders as he placed his feet into position. “Fuck off.” 

_ “ACTION!” _

_ \- - - _

Sandor sat down on the wooden bench, his breath coming out in hard pants as he gave his sword to a prop assistant, a set assistant stepping forward to hand him a bottle of water.

Mormont came up to him, her eyes on her clipboard as she flipped a page up. “We’re making good time, Clegane. Already halfway down the list of shots needed today.”

_ “Fuck,  _ this is only  _ halfway?” _ Sandor growled, reaching up to unclip the metal clasp holding his chest armor on, the prop assistant coming up to take it off of him and cart it away. He looked up at the clouds, the sun looking lower in the sky than he liked. “What time is it?”

Mormont didn’t look up from her papers. “4:45.”

_ “Fuck!”  _

She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if we wouldn’t have had to spend so much time these past few days tracking down my  _ talent,  _ we could’ve filmed some of these earlier in the week.”

Sandor raised an eyebrow, his eyes unblinking, showing no remorse. She rolled her eyes, pulling a pencil from behind her ear and making a note on her papers, Sandor smirking in victory. 

He unscrewed the cap on his water bottle, taking a long draw from it before looking around the yards while he recovered from the last scene, his eyes coming to rest on the set of doors that led down the hallway to the war room. 

_ 4:45? Shit. _

He sighed, looking up at Lyanna. “Ready to keep going?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Whenever you are.”

He nodded, twisting the cap on the bottle and throwing it to the set assistant as he stood, gesturing his chin at the prop assistant for his armor.

Mormont smirked, turning to the crew, her voice loud to carry over the yard. “Let’s get into place people! Someone is  _ motivated  _ today!” 

\- - -

“Come  _ on,  _ Mormont! It’s fucking dark out!” Sandor growled at her, brushing his sweat-drenched hair out of his face, his body tired and covered in dirt - both real and produced by Osha. 

Mormont gasped theatrically.  _ “Wow,  _ great observation Clegane!’ 

Sandor clenched his jaw, his eyes glancing over to the hallway leading to the war room, the lights in that wing turned off. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked back at Mormont. “Fucking sadist, just call it already!” 

Mormont sighed, her face irritated. “I know you’re anxious to get off for reasons only the Gods know - or care about - but believe it or not, the fact that it’s night right now is  _ intentional.”  _ She turned her clipboard around, tapping her finger aggressively on the script. “We have two night scenes to shoot and then you’re free as a  _ bird.”  _

He narrowed his eyes at her, Mormont only smiling sarcastically in return before turning to the crew. “Alright! I need Hodor and his team front and center! We need lights on the northern interior perimeter, I want to  _ see _ the action here, fo- where are you going?” 

Sandor turned around, Mormont's eyebrow raised in his direction as he gestured to Wardrobe. “I’m getting my fucking phone out of my locker while Lighting sets up.”

Mormont laughed, shaking her head.  _ “Absolutely  _ not. You’re staying here.” 

Sandor growled, his hand pointing over Lighting. “I’ll be back before they even fucking finish!” 

“Like hell you will!” She took a step towards him, her voice low so only he could hear. “You need to get a grip, Clegane.  _ Whoever  _ you’re so determined to run off to will  _ wait.”  _

Sandor clenched his jaw tightly, anger beginning to build in his chest as he watched Mormont walk away, her steps purposeful as she directed the crew into place. 

_ You’ll fucking see her tomorrow. It’s fine. _

He rolled his eyes, turning to go find a bench to sit on, doing a double-take when his eyes caught on a familiar mop of dark hair. 

“Payne!” 

Pod looked over at him, an easy smile on his face as he stepped out into the courtyard towards Sandor. “Mr. Clegane! Stranger is doing well today. I also handled the other errands you requested - everything’s ready. Did you need something else?”

Sandor hesitated, his anger lessening as he formulated a plan quickly. “I need you to deliver a message.” 

Pod nodded, pulling his phone out and opening a blank page, his thumb hovering over the screen. “Of course. To who?”

Sandor hesitated, his eyes narrowing critically, trying to judge if his assistant was trustworthy enough. 

Pod’s face was open, his smile relaxed as he looked back at Sandor, waiting. 

Sandor exhaled roughly, shrugging a shoulder, no other options left.

“Stark.” 

Pod nodded, turning his phone off before sliding it back into his pocket. “And what do you want it to say?” 

Sandor thought for a moment. “Tell her.. filming ran late.” 

_ She already knows that dumbass, she’s not an idiot.  _

Sandor frowned, shaking his head. “No, wait - tell her that I was looking forward to…” He stopped, scratching the back of his neck, his face unsure. “Well, fuck.” 

Pod stood silently, waiting, his face not betraying any annoyance he might’ve felt at being made to stand out in the cold. 

Sandor sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, irritated with himself. “Just.. get my keys out of my locker. Give them to her, tell her she can go ahead and wait at my place if she wants, I’ll be there as soon as we wrap for the day. Then you can fuck off for the rest of the night. And all of tomorrow.” 

Pod nodded, turning to go relay the message, Sandor calling out to him, his voice a rough bark.  _ “Payne!”  _

Pod turned around, his smile warm. “I’ll be discreet, sir.” 

Sandor nodded, dismissing his assistant, a weight lifting from his chest as he sat down on the bench, waiting for Lighting to finish. 

\- - -

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck.”  _ Sandor’s feet crunched through the snow, the moon high in the sky, lighting his path to his trailer. His phone was dead - he had no idea what time it was, but he knew it was late.

_ Too late. She probably went home, mad at being kept waiting.  _

He passed the dumpsters, inhaling deeply as he rounded the final ratty clump of trees, disappointment settling in his stomach when he found his trailer dark. 

_ She’s gone. _

“Damnit.” 

_ Or she never came in the first place. _

Sandor frowned, the thought making him feel shittier than he already did. His hands were cold as he reached out to open the door, the knob twisting easily in his hand, unlocked. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped up into his house, Stranger making a sleepy  _ trill  _ in greeting as Sandor closed the door behind him, the moon shining enough through the windows that he could see the bird shifting his feet down his perch, moving towards Sandor. 

Two sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper laying side-by-side on his counter caught his eye, his stomach rumbling at the sight - kitchens had been closed by the time they finished filming and he was fucking  _ starving.  _ He squinted at them, catching the note beside them written on a neatly folded paper towel.

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ba/a9/ae/baa9ae4e5a345e09d056da9417f9aed7.jpg)

She had saved him from a dinner of protein powder and cheese cubes. 

He smiled then, not able to remember the last time someone had left dinner for him to come home to. 

He moved over to Stranger’s house, the bird quietly clicking his beak at him, Sandor reaching out to rub his fingertip down the bird’s neck. “Guess she’s not too pissed then, huh?”

He heard a blanket shift, sheets rubbing against skin, the faint sound coming from his bed, Sandor swallowing thickly as he looked up into his sleeping area. 

“Clegane?” 

His heart was pounding, his mouth dry as she sat up, her silhouette against the glass window in  _ his fucking bed  _ one of the greatest things he’d ever seen. 

“Ye-” He cleared his throat, trying again. “Yeah.”

_ Eloquent, idiot. _

She slipped out from underneath the covers, a dream in a faded flannel pajama set coming down the stairs, her hair wild, her face still sleepy as she rubbed at her eyes. She smiled at him, an easy curve of her lips, Sandor relieved he had enough sense to shower before he left the castle as she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest with a sigh. 

“You’re  _ here.”  _

He cleared his throat again, a strange pressure behind his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back, his other palm flat against the kitchen countertop to help keep his balance, his legs suddenly feeling weak. 

_ Probably just.. exhausted.  _

She tilted her head up, her chin poking into his chest, her eyes roaming across his face as his hand moved against his will, brushing her hair off of her forehead and tucking it behind her ear. She hummed, leaning into his hand, her eyes drifting close as she took in a deep breath to speak. 

“I have to pee.” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, the emotional intensity of the moment broken, for which he was thankful - it was late, he was tired, he had no idea what the fuck he would let slip out of his mouth. 

She stretched up on her toes, her lips brushing against his cheek quickly before she walked over to the bathroom, Sandor blowing the air out of his cheeks while reaching for the sandwiches.

He made one disappear before he even finished sliding his shoes off and setting them next to Sansa’s by the door, the other was gone by the time he checked on Stranger’s water and told the bird goodnight, his steps heavy up the stairs. 

He heard the toilet flush as he was pulling his shirt over his head, his sweatpants still on - normally he slept naked but he didn’t want to make Sansa uncomfortable, which was stupid since they both knew why she was there. 

The water in the sink shut off as he settled under the covers, his eyes heavy, his stomach full, the sheets already warm from Sansa  _ waiting  _ for him. He huffed a laugh, almost unable to believe it, his palm stretching out to feel the warmth from the spot she had been laying in as he blinked slowly up at the ceiling, waiting for her to come back.

\- - -

Sansa winced at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, wiping away residual mascara that always seemed to appear under her eyes when she slept. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame what she could before turning the water on and rinsing her mouth out, cursing the fact that her toothbrush was tucked away in her overnight bag currently sitting on the kitchen chair. 

She smiled at her reflection, a tight ball of nerves and excitement pulsing in her stomach as she turned to leave, flipping the light switch off before she opened the door quietly.

Sansa squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dark room, quickly spotting him up on the bed. She smoothed her hair down one more time as she stepped up the stairs, her bare feet silent on the wood. 

“I tried to stay up and wait for you but I think sometime around midnight I just-” 

She stopped once she noticed his eyes were closed, his breaths long and deep, his face relaxed as he slept. 

"-fell asleep.” 

She sighed, smiling fondly, watching him for a few moments before walking around the bed, wincing as she carefully moved his arm from where it was splayed out on the mattress. She got under the covers as smoothly as possible, tucking her hair over her shoulder as she settled down on her side, facing him, watching his chest move up and down until she fell asleep. 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/18/2c/e5/182ce5493e7a7237c56983463e110d64.jpg)

Sansa woke when the blanket on top of her shifted, the moon still visible in the sky, Sansa laying facing the window now. 

She hummed, a sleepy noise that was barely audible as she looked over her shoulder. “Clegane?” 

He huffed, his voice a rough whisper as he crawled back into bed behind her. “If some other fucker gets into  _ my _ bed with you, they’re fucking dead.” 

Sansa smiled, her groggy brain amused by his jealousy-induced violence as she rolled over towards him, Sandor settling under the covers on his back. He looked over at her, a beat passing before his arm raised slowly in invitation. 

Her smile widened as she scooted closer to him, laying her head on his chest, her leg coming up to curl around one of his, her body pressing into his wherever she could manage it.

The trailer was quiet, just the sound of them breathing as she closed her eyes, Sandor’s fingertips trailing up and down her back in a repetitive motion, making her relax against him. 

He cleared his throat, the sheets shifting as he adjusted the pillow under his head. “So I uh.. fell asleep.”

Her voice was soft as she brushed her thumb against his stomach. “You were tired, Clegane.” 

He hummed, the vibration a deep rumble against her ear, his hand still moving across her back. “Yeah, I was.” 

She nodded, knowing he had had an exhausting day, already planning on taking full advantage of their time off tomorrow after he had gotten the rest he needed. 

“Not so much anymore, though.”

Sansa made a curious noise, tilting her head back to look up at him, Sandor’s eyes already on her. 

She blinked at him, his meaning cutting through the fog in her mind, making her heart beat faster. She sat up slowly, leaning most of her weight on her elbow as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?” 

He nodded once, his hand stilling on her back.

“Yeah.” 

She grinned at him, Sandor’s hand cupping the back of her neck, pulling her down until their lips met. She opened for him easily, Sandor returning the kiss, a low groan from his throat the only warning she got before they rolled, Sansa now on her back, Sandor’s body on top of hers. 

The sheets were wrapped around them, restraining their movements and Sandor growled as he tried to yank them free, making Sansa laugh as she attempted to lean up - too confined by his body and the blankets to be of much help. 

“For  _ fuck’s  _ sake!” 

He sat up, putting his weight on his knees, the sheets and blankets pulling free from underneath her. She grinned widely at him as he wrenched the blankets back, nearly throwing them off of the mattress, his brows furrowed in frustration.

She hummed, watching him for a moment as he scowled at the sheets before reaching up, smoothing her thumb over the crease between his eyes, her smile softening as he stilled. He exhaled sharply, the anger seeping out of his features as he closed his eyes, leaning into her hand when she moved it down to cup his jaw, the moonlight catching on his hair as it hung down, blocking off most of his face.

She reached up with her free hand, tucking it behind his ear like he had done to her so many times, Sandor opening his eyes, his face relaxed now. 

She smiled at him, a soft curve of the lips as her eyes roamed over his face, admiring his features, her thumb brushing against the scars on his jaw. 

He hummed, his eyes on hers as he turned his head slowly, his lips skimming against her fingertips, making her breath catch in her throat. Her heart was racing as she lowered her hand, her fingers lightly dragging down his chest before she reached for the top button on her pajama shirt. 

His eyes were watching her hands as she eased the button free from the hole, Sandor swallowing thickly, his focus never leaving her hands as she gradually unbuttoned all of them, the fabric still laying flat on her body, covering her. She could see his chest expand, Sandor inhaling as she moved her legs, sliding them out from underneath him and placing them on the outside of his thighs, Sansa offering herself to him.

He looked up before he leaned over her, his hands pressing into the mattress up by her head as his eyes trailed down her face, stopping at her mouth. He bent down, his lips brushing against hers, Sansa barely having time to respond before he moved down, her chin tilting up as he kissed her jaw.

She closed her eyes, exhaling roughly, nervous, her hands moving to run through his hair as his lips trailed down her neck, his stubble rough on her skin as he made his way to the top of her shirt, her heart racing.

She jolted slightly, her eyes opening when she felt his finger trail across her skin, starting at the hollow in her throat and moving down, dividing her chest in half, gliding between the two edges of her shirt. 

He leaned back, still hovering over her, his eyes locked with hers as he edged his finger just barely under the fabric over her sternum, Sansa arching slightly with the motion. 

The corner of his mouth twitched and she blushed, her cheeks warm as she raised an eyebrow, challenging him. 

“Are you gonna look this time?” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, his head dipping low, his words spoken against her mouth. 

_ “Fuck yeah.” _

Sansa felt her stomach tighten as he leaned back, her skin nearly on fire from where he continued to toy with the edge of her shirt, his eyes dropping to follow the movement. She felt the pad of his finger dip under her shirt, his eyes focused on his hand as he curved along the outside of her breast, her shirt  _ finally  _ pulling to the side, exposing half of her to the cold air. 

She watched Sandor’s eyes darken as he bent over almost immediately, taking her nipple in his mouth, his lips pulling a moan from her when he sucked gently, Sansa’s eyes pinching tight as she arched up into him. 

“Oh,  _ gods-”  _

His hand slid along her bare back under her shirt, supporting her, holding her up as he dragged the other side of her shirt open, Sandor letting go of one nipple to switch to the other. Sansa’s legs squeezed around his hips as she moaned, her hands pulling slightly on his hair, Sandor reaching up to guide the shirt off of her shoulders while his mouth continued to move against her skin. 

She helped him, pulling at her shirt until it was off of her body and flung somewhere else, Sandor huffing a laugh against her skin as he twirled his tongue around her nipple, Sansa crying out, her hands finding their way back to his head to encourage him. 

He hummed, circling her once more before releasing and sitting back on his heels, his eyes half-lidded, drunk. 

She allowed her gaze to travel down his body, his stomach muscles flexing as he breathed, the  _ outline  _ of him visible through his sweatpants, making her stomach clench excitedly. 

Sandor’s mouth twitched as he reached out to her, the tips of his fingers trailing between her breasts, down her stomach until he tucked them into the hem of her pajama pants. 

He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow in question and Sansa nodded, lifting her hips up off of the bed, Sandor scooting back as he slid them down her legs, her panties coming down with them, guiding them both over her feet, his eyes locked on her center as she was bared to him. 

Her balled up clothes landed somewhere on the bed as he exhaled slowly out of his mouth, leaning down to lay on his stomach, his arms hooking under her thighs, his focus only on  _ her. _

“Oh,  _ gods.”  _ Sansa covered her face with her hands, feeling unprepared and nervous, excited but out of practice. 

_ What if I taste different than he expects? _

_ What if I’m not wet enough? Or  _ **_too_ ** _ wet?  _

_ What if I don’t soun- _

Her thoughts cut off at the first swipe of his tongue up her slit, Sansa arching her back, pushing her hips down towards him as he groaned, his arms around her thighs tightening, pulling her closer against his mouth. 

She felt him smile against her and a coil of lust clenched in her stomach, Sansa blowing the air out of her cheeks as she relaxed, her legs moving up to box his head in, Sandor nearly growling in approval as he dragged his tongue up her center, the tip grazing her clit, making her jolt. 

Sandor hummed, tilting his jaw up, focusing his attention on the spot that made her jump, Sansa’s hands tightening in his hair as he did broad, lazy strokes against her, his tongue in no hurry while he ate her. 

Sansa nodded even though he couldn’t see, her breath coming out in soft moans as he worked her center, his tongue circling her clit before dipping down inside her, coming back up to flick against her, making her hips buck against him. 

She hummed, her eyes pinched tight as she begged, the words barely audible. “More. _ Please.”  _

Sandor nodded, his hand dragging down the top of her thigh, letting her leg go before she felt him against her slit, the tip of his finger edging just outside her entrance, making her whine as she tilted her hips again, trying to guide him where she wanted him. 

He laughed, the  _ bastard,  _ his breath puffing against her as his tongue circled her again, pressing against her clit, making her buck sharply, his finger  _ finally _ dipping into her only to disappear, Sansa nearly growling. 

_ “Clegane!”  _

He hummed, his mouth leaving her as he looked up, his eyebrow raised in question, his amusement written plainly on his face. “What?” 

She huffed, flustered and bothered and  _ so very close.  _

He laughed again, his lips kissing  _ her  _ lips before his tongue flicked against her, her hips jolting against him without warning, Sansa tightening her legs around him when he used two fingertips to circle her entrance. 

“Please, please,  _ please.”  _

He nodded, humming as he dipped his fingers inside her, his tongue finding her clit again, Sandor working his hand and mouth in tandem, the coil in Sansa’s stomach compressing more, the tension in her body building. 

Her hips moved against his face in a repetitive pattern, Sandor changing to match her pace, following her lead as she arched deeply, her legs shaking as he licked her, his fingers filling her. 

_ “Clegane...” _

She broke, her body cresting as she keened, her hips moving shallowly, her mind lost to the sensations rippling through her body, Sandor still eating her, his tongue lapping at her as she came, his fingers swirling inside her as her muscles clenched around him. 

She rode out the release as long as she could, her body relaxing against the bed with a sigh once the burst had faded, Sansa gently pushing his head away, sensitive now. 

She looked down at him, an easy smile on her face despite her breath leaving her in heavy pants, her stomach clenching again when he wiped his palm down his mouth and jaw, clearing away the mess he had caused. 

She let out a sardonic laugh, shaking her head, still floating, nearly  _ drugged _ as she reached out for him. He laid down on top of her, his length pressing into her through his pants, Sansa tilting her hips against him as he kissed her. 

She ran her hands up and around the back of his neck, her fingertips treading through his hair as she opened up to him, wanting  _ more.  _

She pressed her hips into him again, letting him know what she wanted, Sandor breaking their kiss slowly, his eyes looking away from hers, focusing on her collarbone instead. “I.. it’s been eight months.”

Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders as he leaned back, his hips bucking into her once, Sandor’s eyes drifting close as he exhaled shakily. 

_ Oh.  _

She shrugged a shoulder, her chin tilting up as he looked down at her, his face uncertain, guarded. 

She smiled, raising an eyebrow at him as she brushed her hand down his chest. “Then we’ll just do it again. After a nap.” 

He huffed a laugh, dropping himself back down on top of her, his lips finding hers easily, Sansa wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She pushed her body against his as they kissed, letting him know she wanted to roll over, Sandor catching on quickly and pulling her with him as he laid down on his back, Sansa now straddling him with his hands on her hips. 

She pressed her lips against him once more before breaking the kiss, excitedly stretching over him to reach beside the mattress, feeling around for the blue box she had stolen from the kitchen table earlier along with a bottle of lube that she currently didn’t need. 

She moaned, her fingers pausing in their search as Sandor’s mouth closed around her nipple, his hands squeezing her hips as he licked her, his tongue flicking against her skin, giving her goosebumps. 

_ “Wait, _ wait, save that.” She tried to pause it, Sandor not listening at all, his mouth still on her as she resumed her search, not feeling that  _ fucking  _ box anywhere. 

_ “Clegane,  _ I can’t..  _ focus.” _ She hissed when he switched sides, his hand coming up to brush against the sensitive skin under her breast as his lips closed around her other nipple, Sansa in both heaven and hell at the same time. 

“Ah _ \- finally!”  _ Her fingers bumped up against it, Sansa grabbing onto the box and sitting up, her nipple popping out of Sandor’s mouth, his lips curving down into a frown as she ripped the box open eagerly. 

“Fucking rude.” He scowled, his hips bucking up into her, his fingers digging into her hips as she laughed, shaking her head, her eyes focused on the long chain of condoms she pulled from the box. 

She tore one off, holding it up. “Um..” She turned the box over, squinting at the tiny instructions printed on the back, nearly invisible in the dim moonlight. “I’ve never actually put one of these on..” 

Sandor huffed a laugh, plucking it from her fingers, his face amused as he pressed up against her. “You have to get off.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him, her mouth curving into a grin. “I did, actually.” She tossed the box and extra condoms over on the other side of the bed as Sandor rolled his eyes, Sansa bending down to lay on top of him, her words quiet. “And it was  _ great.”  _

Sandor hummed, his face briefly flashing with well-earned pride as Sansa kissed him before sliding off and sitting on her heels beside him. 

He hooked his thumbs in his pants, pulling them down quickly, Sansa reaching to help guide them off of his feet, tossing the pants aside as Sandor took himself in hand, pumping once, Sansa’s stomach swooping as she watched him. 

He brought the condom up to his mouth, ripping a corner of the foil off with his teeth, blowing it to the side before pulling the condom out and dropping the trash on the floor beside the bed. 

He moved quickly, rolling it down on himself, pinching the top, Sansa taking mental notes for next time so she could do it. 

He looked over at her, his hand at the base of his shaft as he raised an eyebrow at her before tilting his head, inviting her. 

“Have a seat.” 

Sansa laughed, the quick release of nervous energy somehow exactly what she needed, her concerns about how this was her first time in over  _ two years _ melting into the background while she moved to straddle him, his length in front of her as she rose up on her knees,  _ ready.  _

She leaned forward, her hands resting on his shoulders for balance, his free hand holding her hip as she looked up at him, his eyes already on hers. 

She lowered herself slowly, his length filling her, her eyes widening at the feeling while Sandor’s eyes snapped shut, a low groan coming from his throat as he fit inside her completely, Sansa now resting all of her body weight on him,  _ full.  _

He blew the air out of his cheeks, his hands tight on her hips, his eyes still closed as Sansa started moving her hips, slowly tilting them forward, Sandor’s eyes shooting open, his brows furrowed. 

“Wait,  _ wait.”  _ He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he looked up at her. “You’re fucking  _ tight,  _ I just.. need a minute.” 

Sansa smiled, raising an eyebrow, making him hiss as she moved her hips again, her body adjusting to his size,  _ her  _ turn to torture him now. “Oh? You need me to  _ wait?”  _

She bucked her hips shallowly on the last word, Sandor groaning, his hands probably leaving marks on her hips but she didn’t mind - actually  _ loved _ having this control over him, the large man at her mercy as his eyes locked on hers as he sucked in air through his teeth, his hips beginning to slowly follow the pace she set. 

She hummed, running her hands down his chest as she found a rhythm, her body relaxing, a tendril of lust flickering in her belly, slowly curling up with every tilt of her hips against him. 

Sandor was in agony - he would focus his eyes on hers before looking down at where their bodies were joined only to snap them shut, his head tilting back while he groaned, his jaw tight as he exhaled sharply, trying to contain himself before opening to look up at her again, the cycle repeating. 

She laughed, taking pity on him, bending down to brush his hair away from his face, her hips rotating in a slow circle now as she kissed his jaw. “Clegane, it’s  _ okay.  _ It’s okay.. Just.. let go.” 

He growled, his hand cupping the back of her neck, his fingers twisting in her hair as he pulled her tight against his mouth, his lips pressing into hers, just holding there as he bucked up into her once, twice, three times, his hand on her hip pushing her down so their bodies were tight against each other. 

His release came with a loud groan against her mouth, Sandor’s hand on her neck tightening as his lips moved against hers, Sansa returning the kiss while she squeezed her inner muscles around his length as he came, making his hips buck up into her, their kiss breaking, Sandor resting his forehead against hers as he panted.

“Fucking…  _ fuck.”  _

His hand dropped from her neck, his fingertips brushing against her breast before he rested his palm on her thigh, his eyes wide as he panted, blinking and looking dazed. 

Sansa laughed, her cheeks warm as she bent down to kiss his chest while he recovered, his hand coming up to rub her back. 

When his breath finally evened out she sat up, her hips aching now, Sandor holding the condom on himself as she moved off of him, laying down on the bed beside him on her side to stretch her legs out. 

He huffed as he pulled the condom off, looking around the bed for the empty box to use as a trash can.  _ “Fuck,  _ you were fucking wet. And fucking tight..” 

Sansa grinned, her cheeks heating as he tossed the box over on the floor, wiping his hands off on a towel conveniently folded neatly by the bed before reaching down for the blankets he had ripped off earlier, pulling them up over them. 

He rolled on his side, his arm coming around her, pulling her close, Sansa turning with her back against his chest, his palm cupping her breast as he kissed the back of her neck, their legs tangling together.

She turned slightly, trying to see him in her peripheral as he buried his nose in her hair, his eyes already closed.

“Nap time?” 

He grunted his reply, pulling her into him tightly.

“Sleep, woman. You’ll need it.”

Her stomach tightened in anticipation, Sansa grinning as she settled her cheek against the pillow he had been using earlier, their positions now reversed on the bed. She sighed, content, sated,  _ excited  _ as she fell asleep. 

\- - -

Sandor was up with the sun the next morning, kissing his way up her spine, Sansa opening up to him easily to share sleepy, slow sex. 

\- - -

During breakfast, it was a quick tryst with Sansa bent over the kitchen counter, Sandor’s fingers gripping her hips tightly as he buried himself inside her, his body curled around hers, her hand reaching behind her to twist in his hair, holding him close. 

\- - -

She woke him up from their mid-day nap with his length in her mouth, his breath hissing through his teeth as he gripped the sheets, Sansa raising an eyebrow while she twirled her tongue around his head, his drawn-out torture just beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*whispers* Hi, not trying to bother you, but just like to say thanks for reading and to leave a comment if you liked this chapter, ok bye!_


	10. I stole it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi! Posting early because.. I do what I want. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

_ Fire. _

Everything was on fire as Little Bird opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was running up the stairs to the battlement, screaming for the Hound as the enemy broke through their defenses. Now she was lying in the muddy courtyard, everything covered in ash from the dying fires surrounding her, heavy debris covering half of her body as gentle snowflakes fell from the sky.

She pushed against the weight on her, wincing when her muscles screamed in rebellion against the action, leaving her body still trapped. 

_ I need to get up. I need to find him.  _

She turned her head, her hair splayed out in the cold sludge as she tried to survey the area, searching for the silhouette she had memorized a thousand times. 

She didn’t see any movement around her, only small flames flickering as a bitter wind swept through the courtyard. She coughed, her lungs full of smoke, feeling like they were on fire - she couldn’t get a full breath because of the rubble covering her. 

She swallowed thickly, pushing against the debris again, a choked sob escaping her throat when she realized it was a  _ person.  _

She closed her eyes, a single tear leaking out the corner as she prayed to the Gods, whichever ones were listening, that it wasn’t him. 

_ Please,  _ **_please_ ** _ no.  _

She inhaled deeply, steeling herself before raising a shaky hand, her fingers trembling as she pushed aside the man’s sweaty hair - already knowing in her heart who it was.

She sobbed, a deep noise wrenched from her chest as the Hound’s face was revealed, his body cocooned around hers to protect her, to save her. 

_ No.  _

_ “No! NO!”  _ She screamed into the air, her voice raw and deep, full of sorrow. Tears leaked from her eyes as she dug her heels into the mud beneath her, trying to stand fruitlessly - his body was impossible to move. 

_ “Get UP! Get up, you BASTARD!”  _ She hit his shoulder, her palm smacking against his cold armor with a dull slap, the body on top of her remaining motionless. 

She didn’t care, she bucked her hips against his in a bitter mockery of the love they had shared the day before - this time trying to shift his weight off of her so she could get up, get help. 

She felt his armor jutting painfully into her hips but she continued fighting with him, trying  _ desperately  _ to get him off of her as tears flowed down her face. 

_ “Don’t DO this to me, you cunt! GET UP! Your Queen demands it!!”  _

The camera rose into the sky, showing an aerial view of the courtyard, the Queen in the center of the screen, her face twisted in grief and pain as she strained against the Hound’s weight, bodies littered around her, the courtyard in shambles. 

_ “CUT! That’s a wrap on the big battle!”  _

A cheer went up around the set, the extras laying around Sansa all sitting up, wide smiles on their faces as they and the surrounding crew members all raised their hands in the air in celebration.

“Thank fuck.” Sandor lifted his weight off of her, sitting back on his heels before rubbing his ear with his palm. “A week of you screaming into my fucking ear is enough.” 

Sansa exhaled a rough laugh, wiping the Queen’s tears from her face as Sandor stood, his hand extended out to her, pulling her free from the mud. 

“You are so dramatic, I’ve only been screaming at you for like, two days.” She thanked a set assistant who handed her a warm towel to clean up with before turning to him, wiping the fabric against her mud-filled ear. “And you weren’t the one squished underneath a  _ giant  _ body.” 

He shook his head as he wiped at his face with his own towel, muttering so that only she could hear. “I didn’t hear you fucking complaining last night, or the night before that, or the night before that...” 

He raised a knowing eyebrow at her, a coil of lust tightening in her belly as his eyes trailed down her mud-covered face, stopping at her lips. She grinned, her cheeks warming as she looked away, images of their past week together flipping in her mind like a slideshow. 

He was right - despite their exhaustingly long days of filming battle scenes, they had always ended their nights naked and wrapped around each other.

Sandor hummed, a smirk on his lips - he knew he’d won that argument, the bastard - as he adjusted his rubber chestplate. “You in the mood for pasta tonight? I can grab some from the dining hall and meet you at my trailer after showers.” 

Sansa gasped, her stomach growling. “Ohhhh, I hope they have that garlic bread. I’ll grab that and the drinks.” 

Sandor shook his head, his face amused. “You and that fucking bread.”

He huffed a laugh as she hit him with her towel, her jaw dropping in mock offense. “You leave me and my bread  _ alone,  _ it’s basically magical with that, like,  _ inch _ of butter they put on it-”

He scoffed, interrupting her. “Yeah, cause that’s fucking healthy.” 

Sansa moved her hands to her hips as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I feel like I’ve been doing a  _ lot  _ of extra cardio lately - I’ve  _ earned _ this bread. I might even ask for  _ extra _ butter.” 

Sandor’s lips twitched as he looked at her, his eyes roaming down her face fondly before he looked away, nodding as he wiped his towel down his forearm. “Fuck if I’m gonna be the bastard that tries and st-”

“Alright, everyone! Real quick, Clegane and Sansa are needed over here for a little meeting. The rest of you are dismissed until Monday morning!” Lyanna’s voice called out across the crowd, her body not visible through the mass of people. 

Sandor growled, turning to where her voice came from. “You already called wrap, Mormont!” 

“And  _ I’m  _ not the one having the meeting, Clegane!” 

Sandor rolled his eyes, the sun beginning to set as everyone else started packing up their gear, he and Sansa walking through the crowd over to her. 

Once they got close enough, they saw Petyr and a redheaded extra dressed in Northern battle gear standing beside Lyanna, a knot beginning to form in Sansa’s stomach.

_ Oh Gods. This can’t be anything good.  _

“Clegane…” She said his name quietly, wanting to reach out and take his hand in a gesture of comfort - whether to give or take it, she didn’t know - but she refrained, instead raising her chin slightly, channeling the Queen’s confidence. 

Sandor flicked his eyes over to her briefly, his jaw clenched as he and Sansa stopped in front of them, the redheaded woman exchanging a worried look with Sansa, her face just as confused as Sansa felt. 

Petyr grinned, his eyes taking a moment to settle on each of the actors, his hands gesturing out to all three of them. “Now, isn’t this nice? One big happy  _ Schemes of Sovereignty  _ family!” 

Sandor sighed, rolling his eyes. “What do you want, Littlefinger? The day’s wrapped. It’s fucking dinner time.” 

Petyr laughed, Sansa’s knot in her stomach getting tighter, her confidence faltering slightly. 

_ Anything that amuses Petyr can’t be good. Am I getting fired? _

She took a small step towards Sandor, Sandor shifting his weight towards her just as Petyr’s eyes flicked down to study how her arm pressed against Sandor’s now. The corners of Petyr’s mouth curled up slowly, his gaze settling on Sansa as he spoke. “I just wanted to be the one to tell you all personally - there have been some changes in the script.” 

Sansa’s stomach fell as she channeled all of her focus on keeping her face blank - if he was going to deliver bad news, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset about it. 

Lyanna frowned, stepping in front of Sansa. “What changes? Did Varys approve this?”

Petyr laughed, reaching over to rest his hand on Lyanna’s shoulder, his grin never faltering even as she scowled and moved out of his reach. “Oh, I can assure you Varys  _ loves _ the idea, Lyanna.” 

He clapped his hands together, his face eager as he looked at everyone. “Now, you all know that filming next week starts with the episode after the battle - The Hound revealed to be healing just fine in the infirmary, right?”

Everyone nodded, Sansa wary as he continued, her hand tightening on the towel she was holding, trying to channel her nervous energy.

Petyr grinned, his eyes lighting up.  _ “Wrong.”  _ He laughed, walking over to the redheaded woman and hugging her tightly to his side, the woman’s jaw tightening as she fought to keep from wrinkling her nose from the contact. 

He looked up at Sandor, raising an eyebrow. “Clegane, I’d like you to meet Ygritte, your new love interest - the  _ faux _ Little Bird being paid by the King to hide you away somewhere in the woods. Naturally, the King has known about your little love affair this whole time. And now he wants you  _ gone.” _

Petyr’s smile turned vicious as Sandor shook his head, his brows furrowed, his mouth set in a deep frown. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why wouldn’t the King just kill the Hound?” 

Petyr squeezed Ygritte to him once more before letting go, walking over to Sandor, his tone airy. “Oh yes, well, Varys thought it would make much better TV, much more  _ compelling  _ TV to have you both alive but separated. Oh and, there is the one little fact that she’ll be poisoning you with ..” He trailed off, waving his hand in the air. “Well, with something. We’re still working on the specifics. But we  _ do _ know an unfortunate side effect  _ of _ that poison will be memory loss.”

_ No. _

He grinned, his gaze sliding over to Sansa, his eyes turning dark. “All the Hound will remember of his precious Little Bird will be her red hair. He’s a simple creature, the Hound. It would be very easy for the  _ new  _ Little Bird to convince him they’re lovers.”

Sansa blinked quickly, images of Ygritte and Sandor clinging to each other while they kissed popping up in her mind, making her queasy. 

Petyr laughed again, gesturing between Ygritte and Sandor, neither actor looking happy as they exchanged a look. “You two will be getting to know each other  _ very well  _ in the next few weeks. And to think - you both started as extras and have now worked your way up to a central plot line.” He smirked, looking over at Sansa. “Don’t they have  _ so  _ much in common, Sansa?” 

Sansa frowned, a heavy weight in her stomach as Petyr clapped Ygritte and Sandor both on the arms before turning to walk away, his voice cheery. “You’ll have lots of time to catch up on the drive so I suggest you stop mingling and go pack!” 

Sandor growled, calling out after Petyr as the writer continued walking away. “What fucking drive?” 

Petyr turned, the corner of his lips curling up into a slow smirk. “Oh, I forgot to mention it? You’ll be filming  _ off _ site. For quite a while, actually. And it’s a long drive, somewhere North of here, I think.”

_ No.  _

Sansa narrowed her eyes into a glare at him as she lifted her chin slightly, not letting Petyr think he won. 

He winked in response, unconvinced. 

“Van leaves in an hour.” 

He turned back around, whistling a nameless tune as Lyanna, Ygritte, Sandor and Sansa silently watched him walk away. 

  
  


_ \- - - - - - - - - Week One  _

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f6/cb/f8/f6cbf8af6adcb7210daddb9ec04b13d8.jpg)

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/68/b6/6a/68b66a9f1880ecbe345e2954fb12389c.jpg)

“I thought you said those were trash.” 

Arya pointed her chin at the magazine laying on the couch, pushing Sansa’s front door shut with her foot. 

Sansa hummed, shrugging a shoulder, her eyes focused on the crochet project in her hands. 

Arya rolled her eyes, grabbing the magazine before she flopped down on the couch, flipping through the pages mindlessly. “What’s with the yarn?” 

Sansa shrugged again, not stopping her needle as it moved smoothly, making small repetitive turns in Sansa’s hands. “Just thought I’d get an early start on Christmas gifts.” 

Arya furrowed her eyebrows, the magazine dropping against her leg with a  _ slap  _ as she turned to look at her sister. “It’s October.” 

Sansa hummed, shrugging a shoulder as she continued. 

Arya blew the air out of her cheeks, shaking her head. “He’s not worth it, Sans. You’re like, literally the most famous woman in Westeros right now and you’re sad because some.. “ She lifted the magazine up, waving it, the pages all flapping about in the air.  _ “..guy _ was sent away yesterday?”

Sansa frowned as she studied her project, pausing to run her finger over the stitches, checking them over. “He  _ is _ just a guy, you’re right. And when I’m with him, I’m just a girl. Not  _ Sansa Stark.”  _ She wiggled her fingers in the air in mock fanfare at the name before resuming her work. “He makes me feel normal. And I like it.”

Arya scoffed, offended. “Hey,  _ I  _ make you feel normal. I’ve never put you up on a fucking pedestal.”

Sansa shook her head, her eyes narrowing at the stitchwork in her hands as she brought it up closer to her face. “You make me feel  _ annoyed  _ mostly _.”  _

Arya rolled her eyes, her shoulders slouching as she looked down at the magazine laying across her thigh. “Well. He’s a liar anyways. He told me if he was ever on a cover, he’d have his dick out. And look. No dick.” She held the magazine up for her sister to see, Sansa sighing before looking up, her eyes studying the cover. She blinked once, frowning slightly as she looked back down at the pile of yarn in her lap, a shadow falling across her face. 

_ Well, shit.  _

Arya cleared her throat, flinging the magazine face down on the couch between them before reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a packet of skittles. “You want to go get a pizza in town? No sense in wasting your only day off being pathetic and alone.” She ripped the bag open, pouring out a handful of candy into her palm. “I mean, you’ll still be pathetic but at least you’ll also be full of pizza.” She tossed the candy into her mouth, raising an eyebrow at Sansa.

Sansa shook her head. “The paparazzi are in town on the hunt for photos since the season will be premiering soon.” She looked briefly at the magazine laying between them.

Arya nodded, tapping her fingers on the arm of the couch as she looked around the trailer, still chewing. “Well. I cou’ go ge’ eh, brin’ eh ‘ack.” She shrugged nonchalantly, bringing her boot up to rest across her knee as she swallowed her mouthful. “You know, since Pod is busy with that bird.”

Sansa smiled, looking over at Arya. “Has Pod mentioned how Stranger’s doing? I wonder if he understands what’s going on, poor thing.”

Arya shrugged. “I haven’t talked to him much - apparently Clegane threatened him with a painful death if even a feather was fluffed the wrong way when he came back so..Pod’s taking it pretty seriously.” She wrinkled her nose, thinking. “When does he get back again?”

Sansa sighed, the corners of her mouth turning down. “Seven weeks.” 

Arya whistled lowly, her sister’s shoulders sagging, Sansa’s brief episode of happiness at the mention of that rude-ass bird completely gone now. 

Arya sighed, rolling her eyes. 

_ If I ever get this hung up on a guy, fucking kill me. _

She brushed at some mud stuck to the side of her shoe, licking her thumb before rubbing at the stain it left behind. “Well. I guess I’ll go stop by Clegane’s to check on Pod, see if he wants some pizza.” 

Sansa’s face brightened as she lowered her crochet work down into her lap. “Oh? You’re going over there?” 

Arya shrugged, feigning indifference as she dropped her boot back down to the floor. 

Sansa smiled, grabbing all of the yarn piled in her lap and setting it on top of the magazine between them. “Well.. I should really get some fresh air. Might do me some good. I’ll just go with you.” 

She got up from the couch quickly, Arya watching with an eyebrow raised as Sansa went over to her clothes basket, tilting it out so she could pull clothes from it. “And, I mean, maybe I can give Pod a break - he can go into town with you to get pizza and I’ll just stay with Stranger while you’re gone. And we should really eat with him too, so he’s not lonely.”

Arya’s eyebrows furrowed as she blinked at her sister. “Doesn’t he hate people?”

Sansa hummed, shrugging a shoulder as she pushed the basket back into place. “Still.” 

Arya sighed, nodding as she stood, pulling at her jeans to get them to sit right on her legs. “Fine, I guess that’ll work.” 

Sansa nodded, a spring in her step as she turned towards the bathroom, calling out over her shoulder. “Ok, great! Let me just brush my teeth and then change and then we’ll leave!” She made a small squeal, her grin wide as she disappeared into the bathroom.

_ Oh, Sansa. It’s almost sad.  _

Arya blew the air out of her cheeks, shaking her head as she walked over to one of Sansa’s cabinets, opening the door and kneeling down to dig into Sansa’s purse for pizza money. 

_ \- - - - - - - - - Week Two _

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/dc/83/ed/dc83ed43feada3a548661d1dd2188d18.jpg)

_ “Really,  _ Sansa? Sun and Spear?” 

Sansa shoved the magazine behind a pillow, her cheeks blushing as she put another pillow on top, squishing them down into the couch. “H-hey!” She smiled weakly at Arya, her arm stiff as she leaned against the pillow pile, a failed attempt at being casual. “Hello, Arya! Welcome!” 

Arya rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind her with her foot before walking over to set her pizza box down on the table. She moved to stand in front of her sister, her hands on her hips. “Give it.” 

Sansa shrugged. “Give wha-NO!” 

Arya shoved Sansa to the side, her hand digging in the pillow pile as Sansa smacked at her arm repeatedly. “Arya,  _ don’t!” _

Arya shook her head, disappointed as she fought against Sansa, eventually pinching her on the neck, making her older sister shriek. She wrenched the magazine free from the couch, the pages all mangled and folded together. “Nice, Sansa. You know, you’re a fucking  _ classically _ trained actress or whatever - how are you  _ this _ bad at lying?” She laid the magazine against her stomach, her hand brushing the pages, trying to flatten them out while she raised an eyebrow at her sister, whose cheeks were deep red. “You should be ashamed of yourself. How did you even get this?”

Sansa shrugged, raising her chin primly, her palm pressed against her neck where Arya had pinched her.

“I stole it.” 

Arya frowned. “From the store in town?” 

Sansa scoffed, rolling her eyes. _“No,_ Arya, I did not risk _getting arrested_ for a copy of Sun and Spear.” She shrugged a shoulder, gesturing vaguely towards the castle outside with her free hand. “There were a bunch of copies laid out on the production table on set - paparazzi managed to get photos of the crew so everyone was all excited to find themselves.” She sniffed, checking her palm for blood before crossing her arms against her stomach, her face annoyed. “There’s a picture of you in the background of one, actually. Your hair looks stupid.” 

“Mature.” Arya rolled her eyes, tossing the magazine on the couch, Sansa grabbing it quickly and opening it back up, her hand smoothing down the page as she skimmed it quickly. 

Arya sighed, pulling the chair out from the table and sitting down, her hand flipping the pizza box lid up. “And here I thought everything printed in those was a lie.” 

Sansa nodded, agreeing, her eyes scanning a page before she turned it. “The words are garbage, yes, but I’m looking for pictures.” She shrugged a shoulder, her cheeks blushing. “I just want to see that he’s okay.” 

Arya frowned, looking over at her. “You haven’t heard from him?” 

Sansa shook her head, her eyes darting over to the silverware drawer briefly before looking back down at the magazine. “Not since the night he left.” 

Arya rolled her eyes as she stood and walked to the drawer, pulling it open, Sansa’s phone laying inside across the forks.

“You know you’re like an  _ adult _ right? An independent woman? Moderately intelligent, or at least enough where you don’t need to behave like this over a man?” Arya raised an eyebrow at her sister, Sansa lifting the magazine higher to hide her face, ignoring her. 

Arya huffed, grabbing Sansa’s phone and turning the screen on to search through her texts. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/37/c3/4c/37c34c7448aaab2741ff1f368ee87601.jpg)

Arya grimaced, turning the screen off before tossing the phone back in the drawer, leaving it open as she walked over to the table. “Ew. You’re lucky that last text about fucking  _ bread _ didn’t go through.” She slid the pizza box towards her as she sat back down, picking the black olives off of a slice and setting them to the side in a little pile. “So what’s the deal then, do you need a new phone or what? You’ll probably have to get it shipped, the store in town doesn’t strike me as one to carry the latest and greatest models. ” 

She looked up at Sansa when she didn’t get a response, her sister lost in the magazine, the corner of her mouth tugging up into a smile as she stared at a page. 

Arya cleared her throat. “Hello!” 

Sansa sighed, lowering the magazine to her lap as she looked over at Arya.  _ “No,  _ I don’t need a new phone. Lyanna mentioned earlier this week that she’s been having trouble reaching the team up there - apparently wherever they are is notorious for not having any signal.” 

Arya hummed, picking a pepperoni off of the pizza and popping it into her mouth. “So.. she hasn’t seen any of the scenes they’ve shot? How are they filming without the director telling them how she wants it?” 

Sansa hummed absently, her eyes back on the magazine in her hands. 

Arya blinked at her, growing more annoyed as Sansa turned a page leisurely, not responding, Arya sighing heavily and rolling her eyes. “Ok well, why are they even up that far? I’m pretty sure there are closer fucking cabins they could’ve used.”

Arya waited a minute for a response, not surprised when Sansa continued to ignore her - although from how engrossed she looked, Arya doubted Sansa had even registered that she had said anything at all. Arya frowned, picking up an olive from the pile and throwing it at her, the olive smacking against Sansa’s forehead before falling down into her lap.

Sansa’s mouth dropped open in shock, her hand rubbing her forehead.  _ “What  _ is your problem!? Do you ever stop  _ talking?! _ I don’t  _ know _ why they had to go so far away, I don’t  _ know _ how Lyanna is giving directi-” 

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyebrows furrowing as she narrowed her eyes at Arya. “How did you know that?”

Arya shrugged, shaking her head. “Know what?” 

Sansa set the magazine down beside her, sitting up straighter on the couch. “Lyanna. How did you know she was the director?”

Arya shrugged. “I just heard it. Around set or whatever.” 

Sansa shook her head, reaching down for the olive in her lap and throwing it back at Arya. _ “Arya Stark _ , you tell me right now who told you that! We could get  _ canceled _ if the network finds out! If someone is out there  _ blabbing  _ their mouths about it-” 

Arya scoffed. “Oh  _ calm down,  _ no one  _ blabbed _ it to me. One person, who trusts me - and obviously you don’t, which is fucking offensive - don’t think we aren’t going to circle back to  _ that  _ fact,  _ Sansa Stark.”  _

Arya raised an eyebrow at her sister, making a point to pause for dramatic effect.  _ “One  _ person told me and he made me swear on a block of cheese that I wouldn’t say anything.” 

Sansa scoffed, her hand pointing at her chest. “And yet, here you are, telling  _ me!”  _

Arya rolled her eyes. “As if I would ever betray _ cheese, _ Sansa. He told me you already knew.” 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya, her jaw clenched tightly. “Sam or Gendry? Which one?”

Arya shook her head, turning around to pick up a slice of pizza. “Neither. It’s no one.” 

Sansa stood up, coming around to look at Arya. “Oh, so you’re telling me  _ Clegane _ told you? Cause they were the only men there when we found out - and I don’t think potential  _ show-canceling  _ information is stuff Lyanna just talks about freely on set. So spill.” 

Arya shook her head, her eyes on the slice of pizza in her hands. “Just drop it, Sansa. He won’t tell anyone else.” 

Sansa shrugged. “Well how do we know that though? I mean, he’s off telling you stuff he has  _ no _ business talking about and you shirk your duties as much as you possibly can so really, when do you even  _ see _ Gendry or Sam?  _ I  _ barely see you and you’re my  _ assistant _ so how could you possi-”

“We broke up,  _ ok?!”  _

Arya interrupted Sansa’s tirade, rolling her eyes as she dropped her pizza slice back in the box. 

_ Damnit.  _

She sighed, closing her eyes as she rubbed her palms against her jeans. “We.. we didn’t  _ break up _ but.. we aren’t seeing each other anymore. He told me about Lyanna one night after.. Just..  _ after _ , ok? So drop it.” 

She looked up at Sansa, her sister’s eyes wide with shock. Sansa cleared her throat, her eyebrows furrowing as she blinked twice before speaking. “I um.. I didn’t realize you were..  _ seeing  _ anyone.”

Arya sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “It was sex, Sansa. It was good sex and now it’s over.” 

Sansa nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear before crossing her arms against her stomach, shrugging a shoulder. “We could.. you know, if you needed someone to  _ talk _ about it with.. I’m here, is all.” 

Arya shook her head, slouching in the chair as she kicked her boot against the table leg. “Nothing to talk about. He wanted to be exclusive, I didn’t. End of discussion.” 

Sansa’s brows furrowed as she nodded, pulling out the other chair, one leg crossed under her as she sat down. “So.. you weren’t ready to give up the other people you were sleeping with?” 

Arya shrugged. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” 

Sansa frowned, reaching forward for an olive from the tiny pile, biting into it thoughtfully. “So.. if you aren’t…” 

Arya sighed, stealing onion pieces from the largest section of pizza and moving them onto her slice. “I don’t  _ do  _ exclusivity. I don’t want the title - I don’t  _ need  _ it.” 

_ I don’t need  _ **_him._ **

She groaned, lowering her head to the table, her forehead making a  _ thunk  _ sound as it made contact with the wood. She heard Sansa huff a laugh, the pizza box sliding across the table before Sansa spoke, talking around her mouth of food

“You’ll figure it out, Arry.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to The_Immaculate_Bastard for commenting that they still had an eye on Petyr. Good job, ya bastard! 
> 
> And listen!! I know seven weeks without Sandor sucks but.. have faith! It will go by quickly!! (meh, kind of. You'll see..) 
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked this chapter! They make my day!


	11. It's not the sauce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii, welcome back. Enjoy!!

_ \- - - - - - - - - Week Three _

Arya scoffed, shutting the magazine indignantly, gesturing to the cover from her spot on the floor in front of the couch. “She’s not even  _ that _ pretty.”

Sansa shook her head, her voice quiet. “No, she’s beautiful.” She laid down on her side, a pillow under her cheek as she reached up to pull the blanket draped on the back of the couch over her. “She’s not the enemy, Arya. She’s just..doing her job.”

Arya wrinkled her nose, looking back at the magazine. “‘ _ Hot and heavy?’ _ Gross. I knew he was a dog.” 

Sansa sighed, closing her eyes, her face looking pale as she took in a deep breath through her nose. 

Arya frowned, tossing the magazine aside, the papers sliding across the floor and stopping somewhere under the couch. “Don’t let it get you down, Sans. You deserve better anyways.” 

Sansa opened her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth set in a frown. “I’m  _ fine, _ Arya. _ ” _ She pulled the blanket up over her shoulder, her legs curling into a tight ball in front of her as she closed her eyes again. “I’m just.. tired.” 

Arya growled, punching her fist into her open palm. “I’m gonna fucking  _ kill him. _ See? This is what happens when you get attached  _ \-  _ you get fucking disappointed cause men  _ never-” _

“He’s not  _ doing _ anything, Arya.” Sansa’s eyes were still closed as she spoke, her voice soft.

Arya scoffed. “How can you even say that? They literally  _ have  _ to kiss, it’s written in the fucking script! I’m sure it’d be all too easy to just keep going once the cameras stop rolling!” 

_ “Enough, Arya!”  _ Sansa’s eyes were hard when she opened them, her jaw set. “I  _ know!  _ I  _ know  _ they have to kiss! But Clegane is.. I  _ trust  _ him, ok? I’m actively deciding to just trust him so… stop fucking talking about it.” 

Arya rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she looked over at the empty fireplace. They sat in silence, neither speaking, Sansa’s eyes closing as she continued to inhale deeply, her skin still gray. 

A loud knock on the door startled them both, the sisters exchanging a look before Sansa sat up, the blanket falling from her shoulder. 

Arya shook her head, standing quickly. “I’ll get it, just in case it’s Cle- _ lame.  _ Then I can throat punch him.”

Sansa shook her head. “We still have four weeks to go.” 

“Well, still.” Arya sniffed, wrenching the door open, her blood pumping, ready for a fight.  _ “Hey, _ motherfuck- oh.” 

A man in a ridiculous leather jacket smiled widely at her, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners, his foot moving to the threshold of the door as if to come in. “Is the _ beautiful  _ Sansa Stark here? I’d like to speak with her.”

Arya growled, stepping forward into the man’s space, his eyes widening in surprise as he stepped back. She pulled the door shut behind her with a firm _clonk,_ her arms crossing against her chest. “No, she isn’t. But my _boot_ is ready to make an acquaintance if you don’t back _the fuck up.”_

The man held up his hands in surrender, his handsome face wrinkling with concern, “Wait, wait - I feel like we’re misunderstanding each other.” He smiled, raising an eyebrow at her, his sharp jawline nearly glinting in the sunlight as he stuck his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Daario. Naharis.” 

Arya shrugged, scowling at his hand. “Reporters aren’t allowed on the property. And they’re  _ definitely  _ not allowed to harass my sister. So I hope you have a good fucking lawyer cause we will be filing-” 

Daario’s smile faltered as he shook his head, his hand moving to tap his own chest. “No, no - I  _ am  _ a lawyer. I’m here representing the studio. Sansa witnessed an incident on set a few weeks ago and I was asked to follow up and see if she wants to press charges for emotional distress.”

Arya frowned, her eyebrows furrowed deeply. “What incident?”

Daario rested his hand on the banister, his smile easy as he crossed one ankle in front of the other. “Sandor Clegane assaulted a writer, Petyr Baelish. Other witnesses say Clegane was only helping Baelish up after he fell but Baelish says different. He also said Sansa was the closest to the incident so her statement would carry the most weight. Are you legally allowed to speak for her?” He unzipped his jacket slightly, reaching into his inner chest pocket and pulling out a folded paper and a pen. “I have a statement here all ready to go - for her convenience of course. All it needs is a signature.”

Arya looked at the paper Daario held out to her, her arms staying crossed against her chest, her teeth clenched tightly. 

_ One signature and he would disappear. She could get over him quickly, move on to someone else who actually deserved her..  _

Arya sniffed, looking over her shoulder at Sansa’s front door, picturing her sister inside, sad and wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. She lowered her eyes, blinking once before turning back to Daario.

“No. She wouldn’t want to press charges.”

Daario’s smile fell, the paper still extended out to her. “Are you sure? We would handle everything - all we need is a signature. Any signature.” 

Arya growled, nearly baring her teeth as her arms dropped to her sides, her fists clenched tightly. “I said  _ no!  _ Get the hell out of here!” 

Daario held up a hand, smiling tightly as he backed away, tucking the paper into his jacket pocket. Arya watched him as he turned around, her eyes not moving from his back until he disappeared into the surrounding trees.

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her hands over her face, frustrated. 

_ Fucking  _ **_men._ **

The door opened behind her, Arya turning to see Sansa with a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders standing there. She looked curiously over Arya’s head, her eyes blinking from the bright sunlight reflecting off of the snow. “Who was it?”

Arya shrugged. “Some guy. Full of himself and trying to start shit.” 

Sansa hummed, tilting her head to the side in consideration. “Could be a number of people then.” 

Arya nodded, agreeing as she followed her sister back inside, neither of them hearing the faint click from a camera hidden in the treeline. 

_ \- - - - - - - - - Week Four _

Arya pushed Sansa’s door shut quietly, wincing when she saw the magazine laid out on the couch, the trailer quiet, Sansa not in the living room. 

_ Damn. I’m too late.  _

Arya walked over to the table, setting the pizza box down before bending to unzip her boots. She peeled them off, leaving them in a pile under the table as she grabbed the pizza and made her way up the stairs to Sansa’s bed. 

“Sansa?” 

She stirred, barely visible under her covers, just a lump with red hair poking out the top. 

Arya frowned, setting the pizza box down on the corner of the bed before crawling across the mattress to lay down on her stomach beside Sansa. “I brought your favorite.” 

Sansa’s voice was a muffle from under the covers. “Not hungry.”

Arya sighed, pulling at the blanket, Sansa holding it tightly in place over her head. “C’mon. Any idiot can see those cover photos are just being used to push a bullshit narrative.  _ And _ yours is obviously old - you haven’t even had blonde hair in years.” 

“Inside ones are pretty new.” 

Arya winced, thinking of the two-page spread of Daario, his foot on the threshold of Sansa’s trailer as she stood in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair rumpled from laying on the couch, Arya edited out of the shot cleanly.

Arya blew the air out of her cheeks, a ball of guilt festering in her stomach, making her nauseous. “Do you think he was even really a lawyer?” 

The blanket moved, likely Sansa shrugging.

Arya frowned, drawing circles with the tip of her finger on the blanket, her stomach gnawing on itself. “I’m sorry, Sansa. I should’ve known. I just.. I should’ve known.” 

The covers rustled, Sansa’s head poking out, dark circles under her eyes as she blinked up at the ceiling. “You couldn’t have done anything differently to prevent it, Arya.”

Arya hummed, reaching over for a spare pillow and bunching it into a tight ball under her chin. “You look like shit.” 

Sansa’s eyes closed as she took a deep breath in through her nose, holding it in for a moment before breathing it out through her mouth. 

Arya frowned, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Are you really that worried about a magazine? They print shit about you all the time.”

Sansa shrugged, her eyes opening to blink at the ceiling slowly.

Arya sighed, sitting up to reach for the pizza box. “This’ll blow over soon. Plus, no one even reads The Braided Dragon.” She dragged the box over, settling it between her outstretched legs. 

Sansa turned her head towards Arya, her mouth hidden by the blanket, her voice muffled. “Clegane might. Once he sees the cover.” 

Arya rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder at her sister. “If he doesn’t have any  _ signal  _ up there, he sure as hell won’t get a fucking  _ magazine  _ delivery.”

Sansa didn’t say anything, turning to look back up at the ceiling, Arya looking away quickly when she saw a tear fall down Sansa’s temple, the ball of guilty nausea growing bigger in her stomach. She sighed, her fingers tapping against the pizza box while she thought. 

“Is there any way to get in touch with him? Maybe through Lyanna or the production company?” 

Sansa shook her head. “I already tried. They can’t get in touch with anyone up there. No one’s heard from them.”

Arya scoffed, lifting the pizza box lid up. “Where the hell is this place? Did they go beyond the fucking wall?”

Sansa shrugged, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. “Feels that way.” 

Arya hummed, picking up a slice of pizza, flicking an olive off of it back into the box. “Hopefully he got trapped in an avalanche or something. Maybe a pack of wolves has him cornered in a wet cave somewhere.” 

Sansa sat up, her brows furrowed, her mouth in a thin line. “Take it  _ back,  _ Arya.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “For Seven’s sake, I was fucking joking. He’s obviously fine, given my luck.” She sighed, lifting the pizza towards her mouth, frowning as she stopped to sniff it. “Ugh, I think this pizza’s gone bad. Look-” 

She held it out to Sansa, her sister reeling from the slice as if it were liquid dumpster sludge. Sansa covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes locked on the pizza.  _ “Gods.  _ Does that have onions?”

“Uhh…” Arya looked down at the box - pepperoni, black olives and onions, just like always. “..yeah?”

Sansa gagged, still covering her mouth as she threw the blankets off of her and got up to run down the stairs. Arya sniffed the slice one more time, grimacing and tossing it back in the box before getting up to follow Sansa down the stairs. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fa/91/21/fa9121dbcaa9c0f4940b3f1ab1e55aed.jpg)

“I’m gonna go back into town and tell that place their sauce or something has gone bad.” Arya lifted herself up on Sansa’s counter, her heels hitting the cabinet underneath her as sounds of Sansa puking her guts out came from the bathroom, only her feet visible through the doorway as she knelt in front of the toilet. 

Arya wrinkled her nose, leaning forward to peek into the bathroom, her sister holding her hair back as she reached up to flush the toilet. Sansa shook her head, letting her hair go as she stood and walked over to the sink. “It’s not the sauce. I’ve been throwing up all morning.” 

Arya frowned, watching Sansa rinse her mouth out. “You sick?”

Sansa spit the water into the sink, cupping some more in her hand and wiping her chin off with it. “I can’t be sick - I don’t have time.” 

Arya rolled her eyes, leaning back as Sansa walked out of the bathroom. “Oh, okay. As long as it’s a  _ scheduling  _ issue keeping you healthy.” 

Sansa shook her head, opening a cabinet to pull down a glass. “Production doesn’t stop for anything. Whatever this is has until tomorrow to get out of my system.” She set the glass down in the sink before turning the water on, her eyes closing as she bent over, letting out a groan.

Arya hummed, watching her sister take in deep breaths. “You pregnant?”

Sansa huffed, shaking her head, still bent over. “We use condoms every time.” 

Arya shrugged. “Those don’t always work. And so far-” She counted off with her fingers. “It’s not the sauce, you aren’t all sneezy and shit from like a flu or something, and you’ve been puking all morning. Anytime anyone is nauseous on tv or in the movies they’re always pregnant -  _ duh,  _ Sansa.” __

Sansa shook her head, turning off the water as she stood up straight, the cup still in the sink. “In the real world there are plenty of reasons to be nauseous,  _ Arya _ . I’m just nervous about Clegane thinking I’m sleeping around when I can’t even call him and tell him what happened.

Arya nodded. “Uh-huh, that’s nice, and your last period was..?"

Sansa sighed, turning to lean against the sink, her arms crossed against her stomach. “It was..” She blinked at the floor, thinking. “I had to change my tampon in that thick fur pelt dress. The one I wore in the glass gardens with the King.”

Arya frowned. “Wasn’t that in like.. September? Have you had one since Clegane left?”

Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed, her head shaking slightly. “I had to have.”

Arya waited, watching Sansa’s face slowly turned pale, her eyes closing as she took in a deep breath. “Oh my gods.” 

Her feet moved quickly, Sansa barely making it to the toilet in time to throw up again, Arya’s jaw dropping slowly as she listened to her sister go through what was very likely  _ morning sickness. _

_ Holy fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. Ya'll didn't think 'Week One', 'Week Two', etc meant the weeks Sandor was gone, right???


	12. Zhokwa, Zhokwa!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome back! Enjoy!

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/09/8b/77/098b778e5612216acdef7179a6c36a66.jpg)

Sandor cursed, his foot sinking down into a hidden snow-covered hole, his balance thrown as he made his way to one of the only buildings in this ass-end of nowhere town.

“Fucking snow. Fucking _North.”_ He shivered, reaching for the doorknob, his shoulders up by his ears as he tried to conserve what little body heat he could. “Fucking _balls_ are fucking frozen.” He wrenched the door open, stepping inside quickly.

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/48/0f/71/480f71ff9728b37821a3d93e06fdcb3d.jpg)

He shut the door behind him, the warmth in the room soaking into his clothes as he looked around the pub - one single table and a small weathered bar running along one of the walls. 

“You’re early, Farlen!” 

A man appeared from a back room, his salt and pepper hair cut short, his eyebrows raising as he regarded Sandor, a deep and thick Southern accent coming out of his mouth when he spoke. “Well you sure as hell aren’t a local.” He smiled easily at Sandor, his hands resting on the bar, his posture relaxed. “Welcome to the Seafarer’s Bollard. What can I get you?”

Sandor nodded in greeting, moving to stand in front of the bar as he reached into his pocket to pull out his dead phone. “I’m looking for a charger.” He clenched his jaw, cursing himself for the three-hundredth time as he pictured his own charger, still plugged uselessly into the wall by his bed back at the castle.

The man hummed, brushing his hand off on his shirt before holding it out. “Let’s see what you have then.” 

Sandor handed it to him, the man frowning as he looked the phone over. “This is _years_ old, son.”

Sandor shrugged. “Still works.”

The man huffed, raising an amused eyebrow at him. “Not out here it won’t. You need a phone that can connect to that new tower they just installed for any chance of a signal this far North.” 

Sandor frowned as the man smiled sympathetically, handing the phone back, Sandor sliding the useless brick into his pocket.

The man nodded, reaching under the bar. “Here, you can use mine.” He held out a brand new sleek phone to Sandor, Sandor shaking his head. 

“No, the number I need is in here.” He tapped his pocket with his finger. “Does this fucking place have a store?”

The man sighed, shaking his head. “Afraid not. Everything is trucked into town on Sundays - closest place is about a day’s snowmobile ride away.” The man nodded knowingly when Sandor’s face fell. “Ah. Must be a new woman in your life.” 

He reached over for a glass, flipping it right side up before turning to the beer tap, pulling the lever forward to fill the cup. “The only time I’ve seen a man with that look on his face is when he’s trying to get in touch with either his lady or his mother.” 

He turned, placing the glass on the counter in front of Sandor, his smile easy. “If it was your mom, you’d have the number memorized.” 

Sandor tilted his head, not disagreeing with the logic. The man nudged the glass towards Sandor and Sandor sighed, pulling out a rickety bar stool, stopping to frown at it. He opted to stand instead as he reached over for the glass, raising it towards the bartender with a nod of gratitude. 

The man smiled, his hands leaning on the bar as Sandor took a long pull from the glass. “So what’s she like? This woman of yours.” 

Sandor cleared his throat, blowing the air out of his cheeks as he set the glass back down on the counter, the man blinking at it as the frothy remnants slid down the inside of the empty cup. 

The man laughed, his eyes warm as he looked back up at Sandor. “That good, huh?” 

Sandor huffed, nodding as he reached into his pocket to pull out enough money to cover the drink plus a little extra, setting the bills down on the counter. The man looked down at the money, frowning. “You don’t have to pay, son. It’s on the house.” 

“It’s no problem.” Sandor shook his head, waving the man off as he turned to leave. He stopped, doing a double take when he saw Sansa’s face on top of a stack of crisp magazines on the corner of the bar.

He reached forward, grabbing the top copy, rolling his eyes when Sansa was on the cover with some random guy with a stupid fucking face. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b4/76/9f/b4769f47287002ec8c58321bde047f67.jpg)

“We keep those on hand for the wives - the men’ve figured out they can use ‘em as a distraction when the women come to drag ‘em home.” The man smiled widely, laughing to himself while Sandor nodded vaguely, the corner of his mouth twitching as he looked over Sansa’s picture, his eyes catching on her blonde hair. 

_Fucking old picture. She looks good though. Real fucking good._

He hummed, opening the magazine, trying to spot any other photos of her. He hadn’t spoken to her in weeks - the crew hadn’t heard from _anyone_ since they’d arrived - but she was always his last thought when he closed his eyes at night, his bed cold and lonely. 

“That Sansa Stark, she’s making the Northerners proud.” 

Sandor looked over at the bartender, the man stacking glasses underneath the counter, looking up briefly to point his chin at the magazine in Sandor’s hands. “I admit I don’t watch the show but everyone up here is going wild over it. Shame that she’s getting tied up with whoever this Daario is though. He looks up to no good.” 

Sandor frowned, flipping through the pages until he came across a photo spanning the magazine, Sansa looking sadly off into the trees, some fucker standing in her doorway with his foot on the threshold. Sandor growled, the magazine creasing in his hands as he looked over Sansa’s face, the dark circles under her eyes worrying him - the _cunt_ standing on her porch making Sandor’s blood heat with anger. 

His chest tightened when he thought about her big run-in with the press in the past with that fucking _dick,_ how it affected her so badly she cut herself off from forming any close attachments to people for years. 

_And now here’s another fucking bastard sniffing close to her like a fucking bitch in heat._

He looked over Sansa’s picture again, his fingertip brushing down the page, anger festering in his gut at how fucking far away he was from her - not even able to tell her he knew it was a lie, hoping she wasn’t stressed out over it. 

He looked over at the bartender, holding up the magazine. “Can I buy this?” 

The man frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “You can just take it, son. We have a few copies of each magazine delivered so the women don’t fight over ‘em.” 

Sandor nodded, reaching into his pocket, tossing a few bills onto the counter. “Thanks, uh..”

The man smiled. “Davos.” 

“Right.” Sandor cleared his throat, looking back down at the magazine, growling as he ripped out the page with that stupid cunt’s face on it. He balled it up, shoving it into his pocket before nodding goodbye to Davos, his steps heavy, _angry_ as he left the pub. 

_\- - -_

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f6/cb/f8/f6cbf8af6adcb7210daddb9ec04b13d8.jpg)

Arya grimaced, a waft of stench coming from her shoe as she picked it up from under the table. “Ok, so, I’ll just go get a test and then we’ll know.” She zipped up her boot, reaching for the other one. “It’s probably not even that. Maybe it’s food poisoning.”

Sansa shook her head, her fingers pressing into her eyes as she laid across the couch on her back. “No, Arya - you can’t go into town and buy a _pregnancy test._ The paparazzi probably know who you are.” Her breath shuddered behind her hands, panic in her voice. “Oh my _gods,_ how could this happen?” 

Arya stood up, her hands on her hips. “He probably did this - stabbed a hole in the condom to trap you. Now he’s linked to you and your money forever. _Forever,_ Sansa!”

Sansa dropped her hands, annoyed. “Ok, there will be _no more_ shit-talking about him.” She looked over at Arya, her eyebrow raised. “I know how you feel about him - I get it. But if I do end up being-” She swallowed, her eyes blinking a few times. _“-pregnant._ ” 

She took in a deep breath, her chin raising fractionally, steeling herself. “Then.. he’s possibly going to be in my life for a long time. And _your_ life too. So..” She closed her eyes, her hand raising to feel her forehead as she leaned her head back on a couch pillow. “Just.. enough about it. Or I’ll puke on you.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She walked over to the cabinet, bending down to dig inside for Sansa’s purse. “How many should I get? Just a box? How many is that, like, three?”

Sansa’s voice was insistent as Arya pulled out her wallet. _“No,_ Arya, you can’t go. They could link you back to me and then it’ll be splashed across the headlines before I even know for sure.” 

Arya growled, shoving Sansa’s purse back in the cabinet. _“Fine.”_ She counted out the bills she managed to find, stuffing them in her pocket as she made her way to the door. 

“I’m serious, Arya!” 

Arya rolled her eyes. “I _heard_ you, Sansa.” 

Sansa sat up on the couch, her face panicked. “Well then what are you going to do? Who’s gonna go?”

Arya yanked the front door open, pausing to give her sister a sardonic look, her eyebrow raised. “Do you fucking trust me or not?”

Sansa paused, thinking for a moment before nodding her head once, Arya turning and shutting the door behind her as she left. 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/93/9c/5e/939c5e77a9313319b51d934697c73c07.jpg)

Sam laughed as he threw a pair of twos down onto the floor, Gendry laying on his stomach in the bunk opposite him. “A- _ha!_ A set!” 

Gendry laughed, shaking his head. “Mate.. that’s not-”

A loud knock interrupted them, a familiar face glaring through the glass in the back door, Gendry’s heart racing as he tossed his cards down on his bunk. He got up quickly, his feet bare as he unlocked the door, wincing when it swung open, frigid air blowing inside. 

Arya shifted her feet, her hands in her pockets as she looked down somewhere near his ankles. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” 

Gendry nodded. “Uh, y-yeah, I’ll be right out.” 

She returned his nod, stepping back so he could shut the door, Gendry moving quickly to get his boots and clothes from the drawer under his bunk. 

Sam’s voice was curious as Gendry got dressed. “What does she want?”

He shrugged, zipping up his jeans. “I have no idea.” 

“Do you think she wants to get back together?” 

Gendry blew the air out of his cheeks, reaching for his jacket, shoving his arms through the sleeves quickly. “Fuck, I hope so.” 

Sam was smiling when Gendry turned around, his face hopeful. “So I take it you forfeit then?”

Gendry huffed a laugh, nodding as he slid his boots on, the strings loose and untied. “Yeah, Sam. Congratulations - you’ve won your first game.”

Sam cheered softly while Gendry grabbed his beanie, the fabric bunched up in his hand as he walked towards the door, unlocking it and jumping down to the ground outside, Arya still waiting for him.

He slid the beanie over his head, a faint smile on his lips as he looked at her, his hands flexing, aching to reach out and touch her. 

She sniffed, running her tongue against the front of her teeth, her eyes avoiding his and his heart sank. 

“I need you to go to the store in town.” 

Gendry’s brows furrowed, confused. “Ok?”

Arya nodded, turning sharply to walk towards town, Gendry shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he moved to walk beside her. 

Arya cleared her throat, looking down at her feet, her boots sinking into the snow with each step. “It’s for Sansa, it’s.. sensitive.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. “She doesn’t want me to get it cause she’s afraid it will get leaked to the paps and.. I didn’t know who else I could trust.”

Gendry nodded, a flare of hope sparking in his chest again, his eyes focused on the snow in front of them as they made their way through the trees. He cleared his throat, slowing his steps so Arya could move in front of him, the path towards town narrowing. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask Pod to do it.”

Arya’s shoulders shrugged, her voice tight. “Pod works for the enemy. I don’t know exactly where his loyalties lie when it comes to something like this.” 

Gendry raised an eyebrow, a small branch brushing against his arm, snow falling off of it against his jacket. “But you know where mine do?” 

“I..” Arya stopped, turning around, her chin rising as she looked up at him. She exhaled sharply through her nose, her eyes hard. “I know you’d never sell Sansa out. That’s not you.” 

Gendry frowned, shaking his head slightly, his breath visible in little puffs as he took a step towards her, his hands still wedged in his pockets. “No, it’s not.” 

Arya nodded, her eyes dropping from his as she turned to go, Gendry staying where he was. “Arya? What’s going on?” 

Arya sighed, her brows furrowed as she stared at a snow-covered bush on the side of the path, her jaw clenching tightly. She eventually looked up at him, her voice quiet. 

“Sansa might be pregnant.” 

Gendry’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening slightly in shock. “Oh, fuck.” He blinked, thinking of how he’d seen her with Clegane in the Godswood, quickly putting together who the father would likely be. “With Cle- _oh, fuck.”_

Arya nodded, turning to continue down the path, Gendry following behind her. “Yeah, exactly. My bet is that asshole is trapping her and her wallet in his life forever while he’s fucking everything with legs behind her back.”

Gendry frowned, confused. “Wait, what? No, that’s.. no.” 

Arya huffed, nodding. “Fucked up, isn’t it?”

Gendry stopped walking, his brows furrowed as he shook his head. “No, Arya, Clegane isn’t like that. At all.” 

Arya turned around, scoffing. “How would you even know?”

Gendry huffed an incredulous laugh, his hand sliding out of his pocket to gesture to the castle. “Because I work with him six days a week for months at a time? We’ve worked on the same show for years! Before he was _ever_ a lead, he slept with us in the crew bunks!”

Arya scoffed. “That doesn’t mean you know him! Men are trash, they _always_ hide their true selves until it’s too late and you’re trapped!” 

Gendry laughed humorlessly, tapping his own chest with his fingers. “And yet you’re trusting this _trash_ with your sister’s secret?” 

Arya shook her head, looking away to glare at a tree. “I’m not.. this isn’t about you.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

She looked up at him, her face hard, her words short and tight as she moved into his space. “Men only want you until they’re bored. Then they move on. It was always going to end.” 

He sighed, blinking once, images of her naked and on top of him flashing quickly in his mind. He frowned, his chest tight as he shoved the memories away, the thought of their time together bittersweet now, tainted. 

He huffed, his breath puffing out in a white cloud as he shook his head, trying to refocus. “Arya, Clegane is.. If Sansa ends up being pregnant, he’ll take care of her. Or at the very least, the baby.” Arya scoffed, rolling her eyes, Gendry ignoring her reaction to continue. “And as far as you and I go.. _nothing_ has ended for me.”

Arya frowned, her brows furrowing in either anger or confusion - possibly both. She opened her mouth to argue, Gendry stepping into her space, his hands staying in his pockets, his voice quiet. 

“I was never bored.” 

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile, his eyes locked with hers as she stared at him, her jaw tight with tension. “And I haven’t moved on.” 

He looked down at her lips, the urge to kiss her a force nearly as strong as gravity but he knew her - she was skittish. If he ever wanted a chance, he had to give her space to make up her own mind. 

_Just be patient._

He sighed, taking a step back. “Come on.” Arya watched him, her eyes narrowing into a glare, her chin raised in challenge at him. He smiled then, the tiny flare of hope in his chest growing at her stubborn defiance. 

“Lead the way.” 

She growled, her feet stomping through the snow as she turned to walk away, Gendry shaking his head before following behind her. 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f6/cb/f8/f6cbf8af6adcb7210daddb9ec04b13d8.jpg)

Sansa poked her head out of the bathroom when she heard the door close, Arya setting a large brown paper bag down on the counter. “You got it?”

Arya rolled her eyes, turning the bag over to dump out six boxes of pregnancy tests. “Just a few.” 

Sansa’s eyes were locked on the pile of boxes, her hand reaching out slowly to take one. “It was Gendry, wasn’t it?” She looked up from the test, raising an eyebrow at Arya. “He won’t tell?”

“Well, he already knew you and Clegane have been fucking so, no, I don’t think he’ll tell.” Arya walked over to the couch, her skin dull as she flopped down on it with a sigh. 

Sansa frowned, stuttering as she shook her head. “Wh- _how_ did he know that?”

Arya shrugged, moving to lay her arm over her eyes, her body sprawled out on the couch. “Beats me, you guys are so subtle about it.” 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at her sister, watching as Arya inhaled deeply, holding it in for a moment before blowing it out roughly through her mouth. 

Sansa’s brows furrowed as she whacked the pregnancy box against Arya’s elbow. “Hey. What’s wrong with you?”

Arya huffed a laugh, her eyes still covered. “Can we focus on your shit first, please?” She shook her head, her free hand moving to her stomach. “All this fucking dramatic bullshit is making me nauseous.” 

Sansa hummed, raising an eyebrow as she flipped the pregnancy text box over, her eyes studying the instructions printed on the back. “Careful, nausea equals pregnancy, _duh.”_

Arya scoffed. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. I can feel my period already on its way - my fucking boobs have been hurting like a bitch.” 

Sansa hummed noncommittally, her stomach rolling as she blinked at the box in her hands, taking in a deep breath through her nose. She stood there, frozen, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared at the instructions unseeingly.

“What’s happening? Did he buy the wrong kind?” 

Sansa looked up, Arya sitting up on the couch and watching her carefully. She shook her head, looking back down at the box. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just.. If I take this, then it’s _real.”_

Arya sighed, standing up from the couch. “It’s already real, Sans.” 

Sansa nodded, blinking back tears, her hands shaking as she tightened her grip on the box. “What if.. what if it’s positive?”

Arya shrugged, standing in front of Sansa. “Then it’s positive. And we’ll adjust.”

Sansa nodded, swallowing thickly. “And.. what if.. what if Clegane never wanted a kid? And then…and then he leaves and I’m raising a baby alone?”

 _“No.”_ Arya’s eyebrows furrowed, her voice hard. “You will _never_ be alone. I’ll be the best fake-Dad-Aunt this kid has ever _seen._ It’ll grow up extremely fucked up and confused but I won’t _ever_ miss a ball game, I can guaran-fuckin-tee you _that.”_

Sansa let out a wet laugh, sniffing as she wiped her sleeve under her eye, trying to hold back tears but failing. 

“Now come on.” Arya raised her chin, her shoulders straightening. “We’re _Starks._ We’re from the _North -_ our ancestors have been through tougher shit than this.” 

Sansa nodded, her chin rising as she blew the air out of her cheeks, ripping the plastic off of the box and handing the trash to Arya, who threw it over her shoulder with a grimace. 

“That’s right. We’re Starks.”

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6c/d7/f6/6cd7f6c3a7a41cc9526885f4f5ef0230.jpg)

Arya nodded, the test instructions crinkling in her hand as she lowered it, looking over at Sansa. “Yep, this one is too.” 

Sansa groaned, her head between her knees as she sat in the dining room chair. “Oh my gods, oh my _gods..”_

Arya shook her head, still in shock as she set the positive test down beside the others, eight of them now in a row on the kitchen countertop. “I think it’s safe to call it, Sans.”

Sansa stood up from the chair quickly, gesturing with her hands as she paced in the living area. “I am so _screwed!”_

Arya huffed, nodding. “Yeah, that’s how it happens.” 

Sansa continued pacing, her voice nearly shrill. “I.. this wasn’t supposed to _happen!_ What was the point of even putting on a _fucking_ _condom_ then?!”

Arya scoffed, tossing the instructions on the counter before walking over to the sink to wash her hands. “Yeah, big fat waste of time that was. What brand did you guys use? We need to spread the word so we don’t end up with twenty other production babies running around.” She grimaced, thinking of Tormund. “Oh Seven, they’ll all have red hair.” 

Sansa groaned, her hands covering her face. “Those _stupid_ ones in that _stupid_ blue box!” She dropped her hands, pointing a finger in the air. “I’m gonna write that company! They need to know they’re putting out faulty products! Where’s a pen?!”

She walked over to her junk drawer and wrenched it open, digging around inside noisily as Arya frowned, shutting the water off and wiping her hands on her shirt. 

“The blue box?”

Sansa growled, scribbling circles on the back of an envelope, baring her teeth when the pen was empty. She tossed it to the side before continuing to dig, distracted. “Yes! Those Dothraki ones! _‘Zho-_ something. Ah- _ha!”_ She pulled out another pen, her face victorious. 

Arya swallowed, her hand reaching out to grab onto the edge of the counter, her vision narrowing into a tunnel, her voice soft. “Zhokwa, Zhokwa.”

Sansa nodded, pointing the pen at Arya. “Yes! Thank you! And if this owner, CEO, whatever - Mr. _Zhokwa himself,_ thinks he’s safe from my wrath just because there’s an _ocean_ between us, he has got another thing _coming!”_

_Well…_

_..fuck._

Arya closed her eyes, the nausea that had been slowly growing in her stomach all day getting fractionally worse, making her exhale slowly through her mouth. She opened her eyes, the remaining unopened boxes of pregnancy tests staring at her like tiny docile grenades laying across the counter - currently not a threat but capable of blasting an embryo-sized hole right in the middle of her life. 

She looked over at her sister, Sansa too busy furiously penning a letter on the back of a pizza receipt to notice Arya swipe a box and shove it into her hoodie pocket, her heart thudding in her chest. 

“Well.” Arya cleared her throat, wiping at the sweat beginning to accumulate under her nose. “Irate memos seem like the kind of thing you can handle on your own, Sans.” 

Sansa blew a lock of hair out of her face, her eyes focused on the receipt quickly filling with surprisingly neat penmanship. “Oh, _irate_ doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it! I will _eviscerate them!”_

“Right.” Arya laughed weakly, the nausea rising up from her stomach. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll come back in twenty after you’ve gotten all the violence out of your system and we’ll figure out, uh.. what we need to do next about your little.. bun.” She winced, her steps barely faltering as she walked over to the door and pulled it open.

“Oh, and get some _stamps!”_

Arya nodded, waving to Sansa over her shoulder, her jaw clenched tight as she shut the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..... So anyways, have I mentioned one of my favorite movies ever is Father of the Bride 2, where two family members are pregnant at the same time? 
> 
> Just thought I would mention that. 
> 
> Ok byeeeeee!


	13. Ouch!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome back! Enjoy!!

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fa/91/21/fa9121dbcaa9c0f4940b3f1ab1e55aed.jpg)

Sansa yawned widely, the sun barely up as she blinked at the coffee maker, the liquid dripping slowly down into the pot. She inhaled deeply, her stomach settling at the scent - one of the only things she’d found that calmed the nausea so far. 

She smiled faintly, running her palm over her stomach, still in shock over the recent turn of events. 

_ A  _ **_Baby._ ** __

_..what will Clegane think? _

_ Gods, I hope- _

She dropped her hand, looking over her shoulder when a key slid into her lock, the door opening quietly, Arya stepping into the house. 

Sansa raised an eyebrow at her, taking note of her rumpled clothes and barely open eyes. “You’re up early.” 

Arya shrugged, closing the door softly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Sansa frowned. “What happened to you yesterday?”

Arya scoffed, tossing her keys over on the table, the metal sliding across the wood with a loud  _ ksch  _ as she sat down roughly on the couch. “I came back and you were passed out.”

Sansa hummed, nodding. “Oh yeah. After all the anger seeped out, I was exhausted.” She looked over at her hastily written letter laying on the kitchen counter, just now noticing a booklet of stamps sitting next to it. “Thanks for the stamps.” 

Arya grunted, pressing the back of her hand against her nose, grimacing at the coffee pot. “I thought you couldn’t drink caffeine.” 

Sansa sighed, leaning across the counter, her chin balanced in her palms. “I’m not drinking, just sniffing.” 

Arya closed her eyes, her skin pale as she swallowed thickly, her hand still blocking her nose. 

Sansa blinked at her, her brows furrowing. “What’s wrong with you?”

Arya sighed, her voice muffled behind her hand. “I guess the fetus doesn’t like coffee.” 

Sansa frowned, standing up straight, her hand reflexively going to her own stomach. “Uhh…”

Arya burped, her nose wrinkling as she swallowed again. “Just like it doesn’t like pizza or ginger ale or crackers or fucking  _ anything in my current world right now.” _

Sansa’s eyes went wide, her mouth parting as she watched her sister struggle, Arya dropping her hand, her eyes pinched tight. “Can we open a fucking window or something?”

Sansa nodded, moving quickly to the window beside the couch and lifting it open, icy air seeping into the trailer. 

Arya blinked when the wind stirred her hair, the corner of her mouth pulling down into a frown as she adjusted the pillow next to her. “So. Is there room on your letter for my signature?” 

Sansa opened her mouth, not sure what to say. “Arya..”

“Don’t get attached.” Arya looked up at her, her jaw hard. “I’m not keeping it.” 

Sansa nodded, her lips pursed as she sat down on the couch next to Arya, tempted to take her sister’s hand if only Arya wouldn’t scowl and probably leave, disgusted from expressed sentiment. 

Arya sniffed, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling, exhaling freely. “Better.” 

Sansa hummed, blinking at the floor, the silence heavy between them, each Stark sister lost in their own thoughts. 

“I made an appointment to get it taken care of. The earliest they had was this Thursday.” 

Sansa nodded, her brows furrowing. “Ok, I can tell Lyanna I have an emergency or something. What time do I need to be ready?” 

Arya shook her head. “You don’t need to go.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “Are you going to bring  _ him  _ with you?” 

Arya scoffed. “He doesn’t know about any of it.” 

Sansa nodded, assuming as much. “So I’m going with you.” 

Arya sighed, rolling her eyes. “I can do this on my own, I don’t need you to hold my hand, Sansa.” 

Sansa shook her head. “This isn’t something you need to be alone for, Arya.” 

Arya raised an eyebrow. “And the paparazzi?” 

Sansa frowned, thinking for a moment before shrugging a shoulder. “I’ll borrow a wig or something from Wardrobe.” She paused, curving her shoulders inward dramatically. “And I’ll hunch. No one will know it’s me.” 

Arya huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she closed her eyes, Sansa smiling when she realized she’d won. 

_ “Fine.”  _ Arya looked over at her. “But only because it will make  _ you _ feel better.” 

“Yes, thank you.” Sansa nodded primly, reaching up for the blanket on the back of the couch and pulling it over Arya, who rolled her eyes. 

“You don’t have to treat me like an invalid.” 

Sansa hummed, standing and nudging Arya’s legs until she lifted them up on the couch, Sansa tucking the blanket around her, only shrugging a shoulder in response. 

Arya sighed, giving up and leaning back against the pillows, getting comfortable on the couch as Sansa brushed Arya’s hair out of her eyes, making Arya grimace. “Gross. Stop it.” 

Sansa smiled, ruffling up Arya’s hair, making it a giant mess that covered her eyes before walking away, flicking the coffee pot off on her way to take a shower. 

\- - -

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b9/dd/07/b9dd077b3aa3baea21b990fd5f70b2bf.jpg)

“He can’t have just  _ disappeared! _ ” The Queen slammed her open palm down on the map laying across the table, her eyebrows furrowed in anger as she looked up at her newly promoted lieutenant, the highest-ranking soldier she had that survived the battle. 

The man shook his head, his eyes lowering from hers, staring at the floor. “My lady, we’ve looked. We’ve  _ been  _ looking for weeks, we-” He hesitated, exhaling sharply before looking up at her. “We can’t find him, your Grace. It looks like he’s deserted.” 

_ “Do  _ **_not_ ** _ say that to me.”  _ The words were hissed through her teeth, her voice calm and quiet, her body nearly vibrating in anger. “He wouldn’t  _ abandon  _ m-” 

She stopped, closing her eyes, collecting herself before starting again, her voice firm. “He wouldn’t abandon the North like that.” 

The lieutenant frowned, blinking at her. “My Grace.. he was the King’s man.” 

“Get out.” The Queen stood up straight, her shoulders back as she raised her chin, her eyes hard. “Take your men and search the woods in the Northwest territories again.  _ Every  _ rock and crevice. Leave no stone unturned, Aegon.”

Aegon’s jaw tightened, his brows furrowing before he nodded tightly, turning on his heel and leaving her alone in the war room. 

_ “CUT! And that’s lunch, people!”  _

Jon walked back into the room while nearly everyone else cleared out, his smile easy as he shook his head.  _ “Phew,  _ I would hate to be on your bad side, Sansa.” 

Sansa laughed politely, nausea rolling in her stomach as she waved him off. “Oh, no, I’m nowhere near as fierce as the Queen.” 

Jon hummed, tilting his head back and forth. “Still. Good work today.” 

She smiled, the emotion not reaching her eyes. “You too.” 

He smiled as he walked backwards towards the door, his eyes lingering on her for a moment too long before he bumped into someone. “Oh-sorry.”

Lyanna hummed, her eyes on the clipboard as she wrote something down. “She’s not interested, Snow.” 

Jon frowned, his brows furrowing as he shook his head, looking back at Sansa. “Oh, no, I wasn’t-”  __

Sansa looked away, her eyes moving between the map on the table and Lyanna as the director cleared her throat before finally looking up at Jon, her stare unyielding. 

She heard Jon blow the air out of his cheeks, his boots shifting on the floor as Sansa looked over at him, his cheeks darkening. He looked away from her, gesturing his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just.. I should go.” 

Lyanna nodded, sniffing as she crossed off something on her paper, her focus back on the clipboard while she spoke to him. “You only have thirty for lunch today.” Jon nodded, quickly leaving the room, Lyanna calling out after him as he escaped down the hallway. “And remember we’re shooting in the woods with the men next!  _ Get your cloak from Wardrobe!”  _

She sighed, looking back at Sansa. “I don’t think he’s gonna remember his cloak.”

Sansa huffed a laugh, shaking her head slightly, the nausea sitting like a weight in her stomach still distracting her. 

Lyanna frowned, setting her clipboard down on the table. “You ok? You look a little pale today.”

Sansa nodded, inhaling deeply, making a mental note to check the dining hall for crackers when she went for lunch. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I’m glad I caught you - Thursday I need to get off around four. I.. it’s an emergency.” 

Lyanna raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You’re going to have an emergency that you know about ahead of time?” 

Sansa nodded. “Yes. I can be back probably around five-thirty or so and I’ll film whatever you need then. I can even stay late if I have to. But I won’t be here at four.” 

Lyanna narrowed her eyes slightly, Sansa not looking away, holding firm as Lyanna assessed her. 

Lyanna sniffed, sucking her teeth as she looked down at the clipboard, flipping a paper up to look at the one below. 

“Fine.” 

Sansa smiled, Lyanna dropping the clipboard down by her side, her eyebrow raised. “I can move some scenes around and get you off early that day-” Sansa’s grin grew wider, making Lyanna roll her eyes. “- but don’t fucking tell anybody, cause then they’ll all want special treatment.” 

Sansa nodded, miming zipping her lips shut and tossing the pretend key over her shoulder.

Lyanna sighed, her hand reaching into her jacket pocket as she shook her head. “Also, I have this for you.” 

She held out a folded paper towel to her, Sansa’s brows furrowing as she took it, opening it curiously. 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/5d/3d/fa/5d3dfa73a9bce742555a4f82295b75bd.jpg)

Sansa read it five, six times before her eyes clouded with tears, her fingers pressing against her lips, trying to hold herself together.

Sansa cleared her throat, blinking quickly, willing her eyes to stop prickling so she could speak as she dropped her hand.

“I-I don’t understand. How?”

She looked up at Lyanna, the director’s eyebrow raised curiously at Sansa’s reaction to the note. 

“I sent Roslin up to the secondary site yesterday to get physical copies of the scenes they’ve shot so far.” She shrugged a shoulder. “No one could get in touch with them and who knows what the fuck they were doing up there.” 

Lyanna looked down at the note briefly, her eyes coming back up to Sansa’s. “It was tucked away in the box she brought back this morning.” She looked back down at her clipboard, her brows furrowed as she underlined something on the page, her tone giving nothing away. “Unsigned, so I couldn’t tell you who it’s from but.. obviously someone wanted to get in touch with you pretty badly.” 

Sansa smiled, her eyes closing as the tears she had been fighting finally fell down her cheeks, a weight lifting off of her shoulders.

_ He knows. He knows the magazine was a lie and he.. he misses the  _ **_bread._ **

She laughed, opening her eyes, her smile watery as she nodded at Lyanna. “Thank you.” 

Lyanna shook her head, blowing the air out of her cheeks as she continued writing on the page. “I do  _ not _ understand it.” 

Sansa beamed, folding the paper towel up carefully, holding it against her chest as she left the room, leaving the director behind to go safely stow the note in her locker until filming wrapped for the day. 

\- - - 

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b7/71/69/b77169f81fa52e5b69a59cf4744defdd.jpg)

Arya looked up from her seat when the bell on the clinic door rang, a skinny man walking in, making Arya do a double-take before she rolled her eyes, muttering  _ for fuck’s sake _ under her breath. 

Sansa stood just inside the door, her hands stuffed into the pocket of one of Robb’s oversized hoodies from college, the hood pulled over Sansa’s head, covering her hair as well as most of her face. Arya squinted, noticing she also had what looked like  _ mascara  _ drawn around her mouth in the shape of a goatee. 

She caught sight of Arya immediately, nodding her chin at her before walking over, her steps first prim and lady-like before Sansa remembered herself, her shoulders slouching as she pointed her toes inward, her knees looking nearly broken as she awkwardly lumbered over to the pink sofa Arya was sitting on. 

She sat down in the empty space beside Arya, her voice a hissed whisper. “Sorry I’m late, Wardrobe was busy with, like, a  _ dozen _ men for a scene later so I had to improvise.” 

She slouched down in her seat, her legs splayed wide as she reached up to adjust the hood over her head while taking survey of the room, the only other occupants being a young woman staring at her phone in one of the chairs by the window and a  _ very  _ pregnant woman with a small kid playing at her feet on the blue couch in front of them, nobody in the room paying any attention to Arya and Sansa. 

“Could’ve sent you into town for your own  _ tests _ in that get-up.” Arya’s voice was dry, her stomach in knots as she tossed the medical magazine she was pretending to read over onto the table. 

Sansa shook her head, her voice still a whisper. “I passed three photographers waiting outside the castle gates. Luckily Joffrey was out visiting his  _ fan club  _ so no one noticed me.” __

Both sisters rolled their eyes, Arya picturing the sad group of people who had started congregating outside the castle gates with handmade signs and cameras ready, trying to get a photo of Joffrey while he preened around the set between filming. 

Sansa hummed, stuffing a lock of her hair back into the hood as she looked over at Arya. “What’ve I missed?” 

Arya sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “They came and got the forms. Said it should be just a few minutes.”

Sansa nodded, not saying anything and Arya closed her eyes, the constant nausea that  _ always _ accompanied her turning particularly violent.

She blew air slowly out of her mouth, her knee bouncing as she willed the nurse to come through the door and call her name, just wanting this all to be over.

She felt something tap her arm and she opened her eyes, looking down at a small packet of saltines Sansa was holding out to her. “It’s the best brand I’ve found so far to ease the queasiness.” 

Arya shook her head, her knee still bouncing. “Tried those. Doesn’t work.  _ Nothing  _ works.” 

Sansa pursed her lips, nodding as she opened the crackers for herself, snapping off the corner of one and popping it into her mouth. 

Arya sighed, glaring at the door that led into the back, getting more and more irritated the longer she had to wait. 

Sansa sighed beside her, brushing crumbs off of her lap before resting her hand on her stomach, the movement seemingly instinctive as Sansa looked around the room, admiring the decor of the building that clearly used to be a house before it was refurbished into an OB-GYN clinic.

Arya looked down at Sansa’s hand cradling her still-flat stomach, blinking once before looking away, her jaw tight. 

_See? This is why I’m doing this. I don’t have that.. mother’s_ _intuition._

She blew the air out of her cheeks, her eyes catching on the toddler playing on the ground in front of them, the little boy making an excited noise as he raised a plastic tiger up in the air towards his mom, the woman tiredly smiling at him and nodding. “Yes,  _ tiger.”  _

_ “Taga!”  _ He waved the tiger at her again, his grin wide as she nodded, her hand rubbing her belly while she watched her son play on the floor, his interest moving on to one of the other plastic animals he had spread out on the ground.

Arya frowned, her eyes watching the little boy while he played, a knot of indecision forming in her gut.

She looked over at Sansa, her sister watching the little boy too, her mouth curling up in a small smile when the little boy showed his mom a plastic elephant.  _ “Fant!”  _

Arya swallowed thickly, her voice low. “I’m doing the right thing… right?” 

Sansa shook her head, shrugging a shoulder. “You know I can’t answer that for you.” 

Arya nodded, blinking as she watched the mother talk to her son. The woman leaned over as best she could to take the plastic elephant from him, making a terrible elephant noise while she made the animal charge through the air, the little boy letting out a sharp peal of laughter as he tried to grab it back from her. 

Arya exhaled shakily, her eyes prickling as she leaned forward, her hand moving to her forehead as she balanced her elbow on her knee, the nausea in her stomach making her feel even more exhausted. 

She felt a tap against her leg, the feet of a plastic lion digging into her shin through her jeans when the little boy made it crawl up her leg, Arya frowning as she moved her leg out of his reach. 

“Theo,  _ no!”  _

Arya looked up at the mother, the woman huffing as she scooted forward in her seat, trying to stand up but the couch cushions fighting against her. 

Arya frowned, waving her hand. “No, you don’t have to get up.” 

She looked down at the boy, his wide eyes blinking at her, his toy lion still in his hand. 

Arya huffed, looking around for a moment before reaching over to tap on the table leg in front of her. “Play here instead. That thing hurts my leg.” 

Theo only blinked at her, Arya sighing as she scratched her eyebrow, trying again, pointing to her leg first, then the lion. “Ouch.” 

“Ouch!” Theo grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked up at her, raising his lion. “Ouch!” 

She heard Sansa snort from under her hood, Arya fighting the urge to elbow her as she sighed, shaking her head. “No. That’s a lion.” 

Theo looked down at his toy, thinking it over for a minute before holding up the lion to Arya. “Wy-an.” 

Arya nodded, shrugging as she slumped back in her chair. “Close enough, yeah.” 

Theo smiled at her, his face bright again as he held up the toy. “Wy-an!” 

Arya huffed, rolling her eyes. “Dude, I already said you got it right.” 

Theo laughed, repeating the name to himself as he turned to the table, making the lion climb up the leg as Arya clenched her jaw, feeling Sansa’s eyes on her. 

She nudged Sansa’s legs with hers, her voice quiet. “Shut  _ up.”  _

She could hear the smile in Sansa’s voice when she answered. “I didn’t say anything.” 

Arya sighed, still watching Theo as he played, the lion now prowling across the top of the table, climbing the magazines laying across the surface.

_ Damnit.  _

_ \- - - _

[ **** ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/7c/da/61/7cda617a4853649fcae2264675641639.jpg)

Arya slipped into the camera storage room in the castle, shutting the door behind her quietly before walking down the small hallway between the shelves until she spotted him down an aisle, his back to her, kneeling as he dug in one of the lower metal bins full of old camera parts. 

“Did you fuck anybody else after we stopped sleeping together?” 

Gendry jolted slightly, still kneeling as he turned around to look at her, his face showing the same brief flash of happiness that always happened every time he saw her before he could school his features into a neutral mask. 

His brows furrowed as he looked at her, Arya’s fists clenched tightly at her side, her chest rising and falling quickly as she huffed, her blood pumping. 

He shook his head, confused. “What?” 

She nearly growled, stepping towards him, her words tight, angry.  _ “Did you fuck anyone else?”  _

Gendry blinked at her before shaking his head once. “No.” 

Arya let out a shaky breath, the knot in her chest loosening slightly as she nodded with a sniff. “Good.” 

He shrugged a shoulder before he stood, his feet staying where they were. “Why is that good?” 

Arya scoffed, gesturing down to his crotch. “Because we don’t need any more of your accidental  _ fetuses  _ popping up around set!” 

Gendry blinked at her, his voice hesitant.  _ “..More?”  _

Arya nodded, angry now as she gestured to her own stomach. “Yes,  _ more!  _ Your stupid  _ sperm _ wiggled their way through the fucking condom and now there’s a  _ parasite _ just making itself at  _ home!” _

Gendry smiled, taking a step towards her, his face bright as he reached a hand out for her. 

Arya wrinkled her nose, her hand pushing at his chest. “Don’t fucking do that - this is going to be  _ terrible. _ Do you know how fucking miserable I am?” 

Gendry was still grinning, shaking his head as he took another step towards her, Arya backing up out of his reach, pointing a finger at him. “It’s  _ your fault _ that I’m fucking nauseous from the moment I wake up until the second I fall asleep! I’m constantly ready to hurl but it never comes- and  _ nothing _ has helped! I’m in  _ agony!  _ Stop fucking smiling like an idiot!”

Gendry nodded, his face showing his clear euphoria. “We’re gonna have a _baby.”_

Arya rolled her eyes, batting his hand away when he reached for her again. “Are you even fucking listening?  _ We’re  _ not doing anything - it’s  _ my  _ body that’s going to be stretched to the max. It’s  _ my _ body that’s about to go through  _ severe trauma _ .” 

She raised her chin to him, her hands going on her hips. “And where is this baby even gonna to go, huh? You’re so excited for it - can you even pay for anything a baby needs? Do you know how much  _ diapers _ are?” 

Gendry nodded, taking another step towards her, Arya’s back hitting the wall as he spoke. “I helped my sister raise my niece and nephew when their piece of shit dad walked out.” 

Arya blinked, her anger deflating slightly. “Oh.” 

Gendry tilted his head back and forth, his eyes locked on hers. “Although I was fourteen at the time, so I couldn’t really do much. But I moved in with her - Mrs. Umber across the hall would pay me to feed her cats while she worked the night shift.” 

His smile softened as he leaned towards her, his voice quiet, his eyes drifting down her face. “And then I would ride my bike down to Frey’s Market to get Shaena the diapers. At the time it was about ten bucks for a box of a hundred.” He grinned, his eyes coming back up to hers. “I’m sure it’s gone up since then.”

Arya swallowed thickly, her brows furrowing as she looked away from him, her eyes dropping down to his chest. “So.. you’ve been..helping raise kids since you were fourteen?”

Gendry nodded, shrugging a shoulder. 

Arya shook her head, blinking quickly. “Well.. congratulations cause you’re fucking helping with this one, too.” 

She reached into her back pocket, pulling out a crumpled sonogram, the black and white blurs on the paper not making much sense to her but the OB seemed pretty proud when she handed it to Arya. 

She handed it to Gendry, his eyes studying the photo as if he understood it - and maybe he did, given his secret past of hanging out with babies all the damn time.

He grinned, his eyes wet when he looked up at her, Arya sniffing as she raised her chin. “And you won’t be fucking anyone else.” 

He laughed, his face amused as he raised an eyebrow at her. “Does that mean I’ll be allowed to fuck you?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You find me a cure for this nausea and I’ll consider it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And don’t come at me with some amateur ginger-ale-and-crackers bullshit.”

Gendry grinned, nodding as his free hand reached up to grab the ends of the drawstring hanging down from her hoodie, Arya stopping him before he could pull her in for a kiss, her face incredulous. “My insides are churning like a blender. It’ll be you and your hand until we figure out a solution.” 

He huffed a laugh as Arya ducked away from him, Gendry calling out after her as she walked out the door. “It’s already  _ been  _ me and my hand!”

Arya blew out a relieved breath once she was in the hallway, her pulse racing as she called out over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile. 

_ “Good!  _ Then you’ll already be well  _ acquainted!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know - I promise this is still a SanSan story. Just a brief Gendrya interlude to entertain you while we wait for Sandor to come back! 
> 
> Also! I forgot to mention it last chapter, but 'Zhokwa, Zhokwa!" means 'Big, Big!' in Dothraki and that entertains me. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you'd like - even if it's just yelling at me cause Sandor went away for TOO DAMN LONG.
> 
> Ok, byeeeeee!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sandor/Sansa Fanart for Onion Breath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669272) by [Paperdollgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperdollgirl/pseuds/Paperdollgirl)




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